Basket Case
by afinemess5
Summary: After Niles realizes his feelings for CC, he does what Niles would do: gets himself another girlfriend.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine and the only I profit I receive from writing about them is when Kate811 reviews my fics. The lyrics included at the beginning of each chapter belong to Sara Bareilles and her beautiful song, "Basket Case." I use them here with the utmost respect and worship for her haunting words and stunning voice.

Basket Case

Chapter 1

_I don't want to talk about it to you  
I'm not an open book that you can rifle through_

First thing, he usually saw her from behind as he removed her coat. Based on that view, he could often determine what kind of day it would be. He knew he'd be safe on the days she wore longer skirts or some of her more ill-fitting pantsuits. The evening she'd arrived and he'd helped her remove her long black coat, revealing a figure-hugging strapless velvet gown, Niles knew he was in trouble.

On the day she'd arrived wearing a long black skirt and a short-sleeved blue blouse, he'd mistakenly thought it would be a normal day. Of course, in the house, things were decidedly not normal—Miss Fine being engaged to the French tutor and Mr. Sheffield frolicking around in a jealous rage—but he'd been lulled into a false sense of security that between he and CC, things would be tepid. Little would change. Niles was a very, very stupid man.

But there it was—her marble arms and her red lips and that silly French tutor. What a tutor needed such sculpted muscles for, Niles didn't know. He'd been snooping near the back door, the scent of garbage and plastic recyclables in his nose, pretending to wash the door's window in case anyone noticed him standing there. He wasted half a bottle of Windex.

But then the man's lips were traveling up those arms whose elegance he couldn't possibly have appreciated enough and Niles kept spraying the window cleaner over and over, his jaw dropped, his eyes wide.

Then—and here's what perhaps bothered him the most—CC held up her other arm. He could have lied and told himself that what bothered him was that she'd consented to this flirtation from a man whose fiancée she'd known, if not liked, for three years. But Niles had no delusions about how CC felt towards Fran or about the nature of her new engagement.

Then CC held her hand up to her chest, her posture rigid in offense, and then she'd kissed the man. Covered his cheeks with her palms, similar to how she'd kissed him several months ago.

Niles was ashamed to feel betrayed and he was especially angry to feel jealous.

Then all of this converged into confusion because he had no right to feel betrayed or jealous.

So he'd hurried into the kitchen before she could go after him the way she always chased after men who were completely wrong for her and teased CaCa about doing a no-no. Then he tricked her into telling Maxwell, understanding how that situation would play out and never for a second believing that he'd _actually_ tricked her. She was smarter than that.

After that, though, Niles could no longer predict what his day would be like with any accuracy.

Now, whatever she wore and however she looked and however she treated him, he reacted the same way.

He'd grin like a moron.

Sometimes he'd get lucky and leave the office or kitchen before it erupted, but erupt it always did. And if it had just been this, Niles knew he'd have been able to deal with it. But it was _everything else_ that came along with it. She still irritated him, he doubted she'd ever stop doing that, but now he became irrationally angry when she threw herself at Maxwell as she always did. Now, it hurt when she brushed past him as though he didn't exist. It downright pissed him off when she ignored him after a particularly witty zinger.

This was no way to live. He had accepted, a while ago, that he found CC a sexually attractive woman. Who wouldn't? (Aside from Maxwell Sheffield, a man even more stupid than Niles.) It was when contemplations of her beauty turned _poetic_ that he realized how doomed he was. Her _alabaster_ skin, her _silky threads of gold _(her hair), her body _shaped like a guitar he wanted to spend all night strumming_. Niles disgusted himself.

He'd allowed himself a few days to wallow in self-pity, slumping around the house in his old robe and eating cartons of Ben &amp; Jerry's that he'd hidden from the Fine family. This didn't feel like long enough—for how could a few days possibly console him from the tragedy of falling for a woman who would never agree to be with him?—but he refused to give in. He knew himself, knew his tendency to pout and sink in on himself like a dying star, and forced the moodiness away.

He would be proactive. He would go out. He would get a girlfriend.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_The cold hard truth that you see right to  
I'm just a basket case without you_

It turned out to be easier than he thought and he wondered what this said about how genuine his efforts to find a girlfriend had been before. A friend of a friend knew a girl, contacted the girl, and set Niles up on a blind date with this girl. Her name was Molly.

And if Molly was shorter and slimmer and more brunette than was strictly his type, she (mostly) made up for it by being genuinely nice to him. She laughed at his jokes, asked about his day, and didn't scoff when he told her he was a butler. She worked for a catering company, so they found a breadth of food-related things to talk about.

And if, during their first kiss, Niles's mind traveled back in time to when he'd kissed a taller, shapelier, and blonder woman, and if his stomach dipped from guilt instead of arousal, he reminded himself that Molly was _here_ whereas whoever else might be on his mind was _there_. _There_, of course, was further away than Park Avenue. _There_ was years of complicated history that they'd never talked about. _There_ was her bank account, her trust fund, her investments, her millions. _There_ was where she'd likely always remain because neither of them could figure out how to bring her _here_.

But then something odd began happening. Going through his daily tasks was a breeze: Fran could usually be counted on to bring up Niles's girlfriend and CC could usually be counted on to be somewhere nearby. Niles would answer, Fran would tease him, and he'd do an inner victory dance after seeing CC's eyes (_springtime sky blue_) narrow. They'd spar, and banter, and bicker. Whatever the hell had hung over his shoulders after seeing her with the French guy (long gone, of course) disappeared. His days were almost back to normal.

It was the _nights_ that were problematic. Alone, he could deal with his feelings (and, truth be told, his sexual frustration). With Molly, he couldn't. Their most passionate kiss thus far had only _been_ so passionate because—Niles winced at the memory every time it came to him—his mind had conjured up CC before him. It was only when Molly began responding in kind that the part of Niles's psyche that had cataloged all things CC for the past however many years reported back that he was _not_, in fact, kissing CC Babcock and Niles had pulled away. (The signal? Molly kept her hands low, venturing from Niles's waist to his shoulders. CC preferred things a little more frenetic with her hands clawing at his face, in his hair, on his shoulders. She liked to feel her lovers.)

And at that word—lovers—Niles lost a little bit more hope. Molly agreed on taking it slow, but Niles feared that taking it any slower would mean moving backwards. There was just something a little permanent about sex that gave Niles pause. Not normally, of course, but this was a special occasion. Sex with Molly would mark a stamp in the timeline of Niles's life: here is where he gave up on CC Babcock.

(This wasn't true. Niles knew it wasn't true. He was being, as he sometimes was, dramatic. Still, it would certainly mean something more than physical intimacy with Molly. It would be a conscious choice Niles made, one he'd never made before, to make love to a woman after admitting he had feelings for CC. So this sex was more.)

There were times, though, when Niles thought maybe all hope was not lost. These were times when he hated himself. He was dating a perfectly nice woman and here he was, worrying about a perfectly not nice woman.

But still. It was there. She'd be a little more irritated with him than the situation called for. She'd spit out _your girlfriend_ as though it left a foul taste in her mouth. She didn't follow him out of rooms as much anymore, and it was only after it stopped that Niles realized how often she'd done it before. But he knew he needed a little more than this.

So the morning before his fifth date with Molly—this woman must really like him, he realized—Niles set forth determinedly to receive some answers. Or as close to answers as he and CC ever really got.

He found her in the kitchen, her hand grasping an empty coffee mug. He smirked. Miss Babcock and Mr. Sheffield truly did have a lot in common: both would wait an interminable time for coffee instead of actually making it for themselves.

"There you are, Beulah. Girlfriend slowing you down? Taking up too much of your energy?"

"It takes longer than you'd think to sap my energy," he replied.

He thought she'd clam up at that, but she laughed. "I doubt you could keep up with me. Where's my coffee?"

"That's true—it would take me the better part of five minutes just to circle around you," Niles granted, flipping open the coffee machine and ladling grounds into it.

"Funny. So what's your little girlfriend do? I haven't seen her around here," CC said, tapping her thumb nail against the handle of her mug and watching him obliquely.

"She works for a catering company." It was no coincidence that Molly hadn't shown up at the Sheffield's. Niles sought to delay that moment for as long as possible, fearing what seeing Molly and CC standing next to each other would elicit in him. He didn't want to realize that he was the type of man to make direct comparisons, but worse than that, he feared that the brunette wouldn't stand up to it.

"How cute! Two servants in love. You can have little janitor babies in a tiny shack in Queens."

"There's more to life than money," Niles said quietly, watching as the water turned into coffee dripping into the pot.

"I've heard that's what poor people tell themselves for comfort," she replied blithely. "What's her name?"

Niles looked up at her. Her eyes were curious but not playful. He knew she wanted to sound like she was teasing. "Molly."

CC snorted. "Molly. _Cute_ name." Her face darkened for a moment before her eyes lit up, realizing something. "If you marry her, she'll be Molly Maid!" She laughed deeply, if a little maliciously.

Niles grabbed the mug from her hand and poured her coffee, adding a splash of milk and a dusting of sugar. "And if I did, what would you say?"

"I'll buy you a new feather duster for the occasion."

"I'm serious, Miss Babcock. What would you say?"

CC placed her hand on the coffee mug but evidently decided it was too hot to drink. A look of regret lingered on her face but it disappeared in the air with the steam from her mug. Regret for what, he wondered? The coffee? Him?

She snorted derisively and turned to leave the kitchen, reaching for her coffee. "I'd say what everyone says when a person gets married. Congratulations and good luck."

His hand darted across the counter before he could rethink it. It left the edge of the island digging into his hip but what was physical discomfort compared to his mental anguish? His hand clasped around her wrist (_delicate and slender as a calla lily_). "Would you?"

She shifted her eyes from his hand to his face. Now she looked angry. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to care about the dating habits of domestics?"

"On the whole, no. But maybe this one, yes," Niles said, gesturing to himself with his free hand.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she still gave a sarcastic laugh. "Let me go, Niles."

How melodramatic this scene had become: he knew she meant her wrist, but she didn't know he meant for good. He sighed, "If that's what you want." He released her.


	3. Chapter 3

[A/N: Apologies for the short chapters, but they get longer (because it's me and that's what I do) as the story goes on. Special shout-out to KB91-raise your hands if you think she should post her N/CC stories to this site! Everyone's hands are raised, KB91. We love you.]

Chapter 3

_He's not a magic man or a perfect fit  
But had a steady hand and I got used to it_

She knew he was standing at the back door. How could she not? She wasn't referring to some sort of metaphysical _I always know where you are_ nonsense, but two factors came into play: Niles usually arrived in a room moments after she did, especially if she happened to be alone, and she'd heard him stumble over the recycling bins. Stupid clumsy butler.

So what happened with the French tutor (Philip? Felix?) was less of an occurrence and more of a performance. On the whole, she'd been appalled when he'd grabbed her hand and began kissing it. His stereotypical behavior of the French _paramour_ bored her, and while she couldn't claim to be Nanny Fine's friend, she didn't want to actually hurt her. CC Babcock was not the other woman.

But then—oh, but then—she thought of how Niles might take this. She never missed an opportunity to make him jealous (no, she'd never stopped to consider why, so don't even ask her) and who better to make him jealous than a well-muscled, gorgeous (young) Frenchman?

So CC played with the French guy, giving him her arm. She played with Niles, kissing the French guy. She played with the French guy again, telling him to stop it. On the whole, she had some fun. By the time her French toy left the room, CC was over it. Time for her next game.

Predictably, Niles hurried into the room and slammed the back door behind him. He didn't seem surprised that CC didn't jump at the noise—she knew he'd hurry into the kitchen as soon as possible. A true yenta would have run off to tell someone else what he'd just witnessed. Maybe not Nanny Fine, not yet, but surely, a seasoned yenta would have told Maxwell. But Niles had other things pulling his strings. CC fancied herself one of them.

So she let Niles think he was tricking her. In all honesty, she really hadn't known what to do next. Nanny Fine deserved to know she was engaged to a cad but interpersonal relations weren't her thing. She had no idea how to go about it. So instead of Niles telling Maxwell, she would tell him.

It had taken a great deal of willpower, though, not to respond saucily when Niles informed her, oh so wisely, that boys never wanted a toy until another boy wanted to play with it. Oh, really, Niles? Where did that leave you, then?

But that was a dangerous card to play. That could devolve quickly into whatever they were becoming more and though CC didn't know what they were, she knew that the idea of _more_ confused and frightened her.

So she'd trotted into the office, Niles predictably at her heels, and informed Maxwell of the newest French transgression. Niles had her favorite drink ready for her by the time it was over. He'd even brushed his shoulder against hers and she understood the gesture. No hard feelings. No harm done. Nothing new. Revert to normal.

Only Niles _didn't_ seem normal anymore. Sometimes she found him beaming like a fool at her. Other times there was real anger in his eyes. She could no longer predict his behavior as she'd gotten quite good at doing.

Then came the real zinger, the one shaped like another woman that zinged right at her, zinged past her defense system, zinged through a tiny chink in the wall, and zinged right at her heart, deflating it like a sad balloon the day after a child's birthday party.

Despite how much Niles had made fun of her lackluster love life, he was the one who had remarkably little to show. There were flings (Nanny Mueller—_what_ the hell was that?, Fran's cousin at Sylvia's birthday party) but no real relationships. CC had once almost thought—no. It didn't matter.

So it surprised her when Niles and this woman whose name she hadn't bothered to learn (why bother to learn something you won't need to know after a few days?) actually went on several dates. _This_ was new. This was, actually, something CC never had to deal with before: Niles with a girlfriend. She wasn't entirely sure she liked it.

And why, CC? Oh, and why. Well, CC told herself defensively, sometimes breakfast was late. Sometimes Maxwell needed something brought to the theater and Niles was already out. Sometimes Niles didn't follow her into rooms now.

And sometimes, CC fumed as she waited in the empty kitchen, there was no coffee when she needed some damn coffee.

She worked for a catering company. How quaint. CC made fun of it, as was her right.

But then she started talking about children and marriage and she wondered what the hell she was doing.

Molly. Isn't she just a cute little button of a woman. And then it just came to her: Molly Maid. She doubted anyone could fault her for realizing that connection. But to be fair to all parties, she was the one who kept bringing up marriage.

Still, she maintained that Niles didn't have to take it where he did. He asked what she'd say, she made a joke about a feather duster, and that should have been the end. But then he got serious about it. Niles was seldom serious about things around her. He could be practical—are you having lunch here, Babcock? He could be concerned—are you feeling all right, Miss Babcock? He could even be nice—let me get you some tea, Miss Babcock. But serious—no. They didn't do serious. Serious was like _more_: confusing and frightening.

So CC did what CC always did: gave him a flippant remark and tried to leave the kitchen. But the butler did what the butler never did: reached out, grabbed her, damn near tried to force an answer from her.

So she, again, did what she always did: made a joke about him being a servant and tried to give a cruel laugh. It all fell flat. The butler suddenly did what the butler never did: refused to play by the rules of their game. (Game? Was that a fair word to use? No. But what other word was there? CC had once perused a thesaurus, came up empty-handed.)

She told him to let her go. He agreed to if that's what she wanted. It wasn't. But he still did.


	4. Chapter 4

[A/N: Another short chapter, I'm afraid. But things start picking up after this. I hope you're enjoying.]

Chapter 4

_And a glass cage heart and invited me in  
And now I'm just a basket case without him_

After that day in the kitchen, they went back to the beginning. Not back to normal (which in their case was decidedly un-normal). Back to the very beginning, when she first started working for Maxwell. Niles had teased her in an offhanded kind of way back then. He was first a butler, second a playmate. Now he was a butler who happened to play with her if, it seemed to CC, he remembered she was there. So she turned her nose up at him and tried to remember how she used to act around him.

It wasn't easy. She learned how much of life was driven by pure habit when she had to stop her feet from following Niles out of the office after he dropped off Maxwell's tea. Same thing when Maxwell said something that could _easily_ turn into an insult for Niles. And apparently jokes about Niles's girlfriend only received stern looks from Maxwell while Niles just shifted uncomfortably and often left the room—again, without CC in tow.

She tried to look on the bright side. She worked more efficiently, her coffee finally tasted normal, and her nerves very seldom felt frayed at the end of a work day.

But CC was not a bright-side woman and she was _bored_. Maxwell was so painfully _boring_. She'd even taken to gabbing a little with Nanny Fine when the woman came into the office, grateful for the distraction from how humdrum Broadway producing turned out to be.

At the very least, the nanny seemed to feel a little put-out at Niles's time being taken up by another woman too. She was nicer than CC, though—or at least a better friend—because CC hadn't yet heard her saying anything too negative about Molly.

This wouldn't do. Her whole life, she strayed very easily into boredom, and it turned out that Niles was an integral part of her day being _not_ boring.

With a sigh, she stood and tossed the contracts onto Maxwell's desk. He jumped slightly. "These look fine. Have Niles send them off."

"Will do," Max said, making a note to himself on his small notepad.

"I'm going to the theater," CC told him, shoving her well-worn script into her leather bag.

"Oh?" he asked, peering at her over his gold-rimmed glasses.

"Nothing else going on here," CC replied. "See you later, Maxwell."

She had a feeling he said something to her as she shut the office door but truth be told, she didn't care.

"Off to meet your coven?" she heard Niles's voice ask her as she ambled through the living room.

She smiled. Were she a more emotionally aware woman, she might have recognized that she missed him. It was all rendered moot, though, because even if she had recognized it, she never would have said it. "Yes, in fact. Want to be the virgin for our sacrifice?"

He caught up to her as she crossed into the foyer and smirked at her. "I'd love to, but—"

"But you have a date with your girlfriend, the only other virgin in Manhattan?" CC guessed, her smile becoming a little more grim. Why, oh why did she always bring that woman up? Masochist.

Niles ignored her as he opened the front closet and pulled out her light spring jacket. After a second's pause, Niles reached in and pulled out a black umbrella. "Be careful, Wicked Witch. It looks like rain."

"Thanks, Broomhilda," CC said, slipping on her jacket and taking the umbrella from him. She hitched her bag further up on her shoulder and paused. "That one didn't make much sense, did it?"

Niles smirked and shook his head. "No."

"Well, you can't blame me for being a little rusty," she reasoned, stepping up to the front door and pulling it open.

"Age?" Niles guessed.

CC snorted and pat his cheek a few times. "No, because you've been ignoring me for a week." With that, she stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.

After the boredom of the office and the confused mix that occluded her now whenever she interacted with Niles, driving her Mercedes through the familiar streets of Manhattan felt right. The soft hum of the engine, the sweet breeze through the cracked window: here, she was in control. She understood things.

The feeling only intensified as she entered the theater, finding the expected mishmash of people, sets, and costumes. She even spotted a script rolling down the aisle toward the stage. Anticipation coursed through her. Let's go.

Within twenty minutes, she had settled disputes, set schedules, and coordinated everything so that the theater now resembled a well-oiled machine. She smiled to herself. Who needed a silly butler and his stupid girlfriend?

"Miss Babcock, excuse me," one of the stagehands said nervously, fiddling with a long electrical cord.

CC looked at him, her face frowning slightly when he didn't continue. "Well?"

"Oh! Right," he said. "Uh, anyhow, we need to fix one of the lights on the stage. It seems loose."

CC continued staring at him and then said slowly, "That doesn't seem like something I need to hear about."

"No, well, not normally, no," he stammered, his nervousness increasing with every millimeter that CC's eyes narrowed. "It's just—the lighting contractor told us not to mess with the lights after last week, and—"

"Right," CC said, stepping past the sweating young man and heading towards the stage. "Which light?"

She stepped onstage, watching as the stagehand motioned to the third row of lights. She told the young man to just fix it and she'd sort it out with the contractor later. Were contractors worse than choreographers? No, CC decided, seeing the man she'd feuded with last week walk into the theater and avoid her gaze. Choreographers were worse.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something swooping towards her from the ceiling. She found herself wondering what Niles was doing that evening before everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

[A/N: I dedicate this chapter to two people: 1. KB91, the queen of the fandom whose reviews make me cry with happiness, and 2. my best friend who ruins my life on the regular.]

Chapter 5

_You're beggin' for the truth, so I'm sayin' it to you  
I've been saving your place and what good does it do?  
Now I'm just a basket case_

As Niles hurried down the sterile halls of Mount Sinai, brushing rain drops off his shoulders, he reflected on the last two weeks. Babcock had accused him of ignoring her for the past week but she'd been lenient in that. He'd been avoiding her for at least two weeks.

"Which room is CC Babcock in?" Niles asked the nurse on the first floor.

"Are you family?"

"Yes," Niles responded automatically.

"Do you have proof of that?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Niles didn't believe his fifteen-year obsession would count as proof and so he stood silently, trying to look as sympathetic as possible.

"The doctor's in with her right now. You can sit in the family waiting room over there," she told him, pointing to a room a little further down the hallway. "When he's done, I'll ask her if she'd like any visitors. What's your name?"

"Niles," he replied before walking off to sit in the waiting room. The stiff, wool-covered chairs offered little comfort and he sat with his elbows on his knees.

He had no idea what had happened. He recounted the events in his head, watching the images slip by like a film reel. Mr. Sheffield had answered the phone, asked a few alarmed questions, and then hurriedly left the manse, calling out something about Miss Babcock and asking Niles to stay at home to wait for the children's return from school. If a longer twenty minutes had ever passed in his life, Niles didn't know. He had placed a few unanswered calls to the theater. The children arrived at their usual time, and Fran had thankfully arrived a few minutes later.

Unintentionally mimicking his boss's behavior from earlier, Niles had called out a jumble of words to Miss Fine about Miss Babcock, the theater, and Mr. Sheffield before hurrying off in the town car. He drove to the theater, momentarily relieved when he saw CC's car parked in front of it but unnerved by the chaos inside. Niles had only seen the theater that crazed once before when CC had been there, and she had made two grown men cry that day before she'd sorted it all out.

As he'd suspected, CC wasn't there. A tearful chorus girl who had been unfortunate enough to see it happen shakily relayed some of the details to Niles, and he gathered that one of the lighting fixtures had come loose from the ceiling and swung down onto CC's head. She'd lost consciousness for a few moments before awaking, and from the way the girl's voice quaked, CC had not been happy that they'd called an ambulance.

Niles had spared a few seconds to pat the girl's shoulder consolingly and asking what hospital they'd taken her to before hurrying back to the car and driving off.

He looked up hopefully as a shadow darkened the doorway, but his shoulders deflated upon seeing it was just a passing aide.

It felt as though so much had happened between their showdown in the kitchen and seeing her today. He'd told himself that sleeping with Molly and choosing to be in a relationship with her would change things with Babcock, but a foolish part of him had hoped that it wouldn't have to change _that_ much. But that part of him was, more than anything, foolish, and Niles had been wrong.

He saw her smile earlier that day when he asked if she was off to leave her coven, and it had tugged at his heart in a way that Molly hadn't quite managed to do yet. The rest of him, the non-foolish self, knew what it was. He missed her.

That was a dangerous thing to feel, an even more dangerous thing to admit, because Niles was not that type of man. He had a girlfriend. He had a _lover_.

But—Niles closed his eyes and lowered his forehead into his palms, for there was always a but—there were things he couldn't necessarily help feeling or acknowledging. Some things forced themselves through any sort of self-imposed barriers Niles tried to put in place. One of those things just happened to be CC's face.

He was with Molly, focusing on Molly, becoming intimate with Molly, when he looked into her eyes. They were a lovely brown (_brown, brown…why couldn't he think of anything poetic for brown?_) but it was in those eyes that Niles felt a jolt of something that felt an awful lot like regret shoot through him.

Yes, Niles granted, he was foolish and a romantic and had a flair for the dramatic. But he was not naïve. He understood that relationships were built on more than passion, that passion, in fact, provided a very rocky foundation for anything solid. Molly gave him companionship, kindness, humor, and a wealth of things in common. So in the overall scheme of life, a lack of intense passion mattered very little.

But _one of those things_ crept back to him in these moments, and these blonde memories contained fits of intense passion that Niles had never experienced before. He felt more in a thirty-second kiss with Babcock than he'd felt with his past five lovers combined. Hell, even the heat of his jealousy over her kiss with the French tutor rivaled most of his past romps.

He had to sort this out. He enjoyed his relationship with Molly. So what if he had been—no. He couldn't let the ghost of Babcock ruin it for him—which boiled down to not letting himself ruin it.

"Mr. Niles? She said you can come visit her now," the nurse from the desk said in the doorway, giving him a kind smile. "She's all right," she added, mistaking his worried expression—which only made Niles feel guiltier, as he should of course have been more worried for Babcock's health.

"Thank you," Niles said, following the nurse out of the waiting room and following her instructions to CC's room.

It was a temporary room in emergency care, meant only to hold patients before they went up to the floors appropriate to their medical needs, and in this way, it felt even more foreboding. There were no faux-comforting decorations or artwork, just sterilized equipment and IV stands waiting to be used. And despite the very annoyed expression on her face, Niles still had to work quite hard to calm himself at the sight of her laying in a hospital bed.

"One of the choreographers finally attack you?" Niles asked in lieu of a greeting.

CC smirked. "No, but there's a lighting contractor who has a hell of a lawsuit coming his way."

Niles nodded, stepping further into the room and standing next to her bed. He saw that her left hand sat atop the white sheet and Niles stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "A light fixture hits your head and you black out for a few seconds and everyone freaks out."

"Well, they're theater people, they're quite dramatic," Niles replied wryly. He wouldn't hold her hand, no, but he couldn't resist pulling his hand from his pocket, reaching out, and brushing her hair back. She winced and hissed as his fingers encountered the lump there. "Is this where it hit you?"

"No, Niles, I've always had a bulge on the side of my skull."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"You're the troll here, not me."

"I'll ask again, are you ok?" he repeated, gingerly running his fingertips over the lump. It didn't appear to have bled.

She pulled her head away from his touch, grimacing at the movement, and sat up straight again. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure you aren't the British one here, Babcock?" Niles asked irritably. "Speaking of—where's Mr. Sheffield?"

"He left."

"He left you here?" he asked, his voice more severe than he'd intended. Her eyes widened at him, her expression inscrutable.

"I told him to. As I have informed you, I'm fine," CC said slowly, as though he were the one with a concussion.

"Christ, that man is unbelievable," Niles seethed, shaking his head.

"Niles, I'm—"

"Yes, yes, I know, you're _fine_," Niles spat out, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you think he'd leave if it were Miss Fine sitting here?" He shook his head again, more forcefully this time.

"Yeah, I get it, Niles, he prefers the scantily-clad brunette," CC grumbled, leaning her head against the mattress and closing her eyes. "You'll take any opportunity to rub it in my face."

Niles turned to her quickly. "What? No, that's not what I meant—"

"Seems everyone prefers the skinny brunettes around here," she groused.

Niles sighed. He didn't ask how she knew Molly had brown hair. "I meant because he's your friend, Miss Babcock."

CC snorted. "Yeah, ok."

He didn't know what she was derisive about—that he hadn't meant to tease her or that Maxwell was her friend—but, again, he chose not to question it. "Do you have a concussion?"

"No, the doctor doesn't think so," she told him. "I passed the concussion test, anyway."

"Must be nice to have finally passed a test, eh?"

"Please," she said, glancing at him haughtily. "I passed almost every test I've ever taken."

"_Almost_?" Niles pointed out, his eyes twinkling.

"Shut up, Niles," she said with a light laugh.

"You know I can't," he told her, to which she nodded grudgingly. "If you're fine, why can't you leave?"

"The doctor gave me some drivel about a follow-up test and waiting a bit to see if any concussion symptoms surface," CC told him, rolling her eyes. "He ignored me when I asked for a second opinion. Isn't that illegal? Look it up, Niles."

Niles spread his palms to show their emptiness. "Sure, let me just grab my medical law handbook."

CC made a sound of frustration. "You know they probably just want to charge my insurance even more money."

"Yes, probably."

"Well, isn't _that_ illegal?"

"Miss Babcock, do I give off the impression that I'm some sort of legal expert?"

CC glared at him. "Pardon me for having a conversation."

"You're pardoned."

"All right, well, now that you've satisfied your curiosity that I'm ok, much to your chagrin, I'm sure, you can go now," she told him.

Niles swatted at her hand (_soft like a petal_) and pulled the only chair in the room up next to the bed. "Nah, Babcock, I'll stay."

"Why?" she asked, and though he was currently looking at a pain chart on the wall, he swore he heard a smile in her voice.

"Someone has to drive you back to your car," he pointed out.

"You're just hoping there's a plug you can pull out," CC said.

Niles widened his eyes excitedly and glanced around the room. "Do you think there is?"

CC laughed his favorite laugh (_a musical symphony_) and shook her head carefully. "If you weren't my only ride, I'd hate you."

So many ifs, Niles realized as he sat back in the chair and waited with her for the doctor. I would hate you so much _if_…if only….

After a long while of companionable silence and light bickering, the doctor returned. He asked CC several questions, shined a pen light in her eyes a couple of times, and made her swear that if any unusual symptoms occurred, she would call her doctor right away. Niles had never seen CC so compliant before.

Then, just as suddenly, their strange haven created in the hospital room broke and they were back outside in the dingy parking garage. He climbed into the town car, she slid into the passenger's seat, and they drove off to the theater.

Niles parked the car in the spot in front of hers, climbing out to open her door. "You aren't going back to work, are you?" he asked concernedly.

CC glanced around and sighed. "No, it looks like everyone scattered when I left."

"They seemed concerned about you at the theater," he told her, but the half-smile she gave him said she didn't believe that. "What are your plans for the evening, then?"

She looked at him oddly, but maybe just a shaft of sunlight from between the buildings distorted the look on her face. "Nothing. Don't you have plans with—"

"Molly!" Niles exclaimed. "Sorry, Babcock, I…" Leaving the sentence unfinished, Niles ran back to the town car, jumped in, and tried to pretend like he didn't see CC watching him drive off in the rearview mirror.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Now I'm just a basket case…_

CC glanced up from the files spread across her lap, watching Niles and Maxwell discuss dinner that evening. Of all the stupid, pointless, unprofessional things she'd ever heard, this one _really_ took the cake. It took the cake, the topper, and the platter it stood on. Too bad it couldn't take the caterer who baked it and the butler who served it out with it, far, far away from CC's life.

"Will you be joining us, CC?" Maxwell asked, cutting through CC's reverie—though reverie felt too innocuous a word for the murderous plans circling CC's head.

"For a meet-the-help dinner? I'd rather jump off the roof," CC replied.

"Come on, CC, it'll be fun!" Max urged in the robust, oblivious way he had. CC just stared at him, a little sad. Could she even consider such an obtuse, unaware man her friend? Had she really tried to convince herself that she could ever love him?

"Have you ever actually _had_ fun, Maxwell?" she muttered, but he'd stopped listening, informing Niles that CC would of course be having dinner with them.

"Then I'll have to get a whole other chicken," Niles said to himself. "Or _you_ could just climb in the oven," he mumbled to her as he walked by.

She glared at him and continued glaring as he left the room. She shifted her narrowed eyes to the papers surrounding her but hot anger pumped through her veins and she couldn't focus. Why would Maxwell ever think she wanted to eat at a dinner where Niles was introducing his girlfriend to the family?

She could just leave. A part of her acknowledged that. Self-preservation, at least in the emotional sense, was not one of CC Babcock's greater characteristics so although she knew she _could_ leave, she also knew she wouldn't. In any case, she wanted to see the competition.

No. Not competition. A foolish word to use. Competition implied that CC and Molly might have been vying for the same thing. Competition also implied that, were that the case, Molly would even stand a chance. CC scoffed at the idea.

Setting the pile of papers aside, CC stood and left the office. Her feet started carrying her towards the kitchen before she forcibly stopped herself. Habits die hard. Pivoting on her heel, she walked instead into the living room, finding Fran sitting on the couch.

"Hi, Nanny Fine," CC said, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

"Hi, Miss Babcock," Fran replied with a sigh.

CC took a closer look at the nanny and saw a frown on her face. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Oh, it's just Niles."

"Preaching to the choir, sister."

That brought a smile to Fran's face. "He's just so _different_ since he started dating Molly. He won't dish to me about her, I have to meet her at the same time as everyone else, and he was out with her so late last night that he didn't fix my midnight snack!"

"My, aren't you struggling," CC remarked.

"I am!" Fran wailed.

CC almost pointed out that Fran was being quite selfish but stopped herself in time—her issues with Niles were all rather selfish, too. She thought back to a television show she'd watched once and tried to remember how the women interacted with each other. "That's…awful?" she guessed.

"It is!" Fran agreed fervently, sitting up straighter and turning to face CC. "I mean, I'm happy for him. I am. He's finally gettin' lucky." CC winced. "But you're _supposed_ to introduce your girlfriend to your friends! Why wouldn't he want to involve me?"

"Well, that's pretty kinky," CC reasoned. Fran looked at her. "No? Ok…I don't know, Nanny Fine, he should want to include you in his life."

"I _know_!" Fran bemoaned, scooting closer to CC, who frantically tried to scoot away. "I just feel…I feel like I'm losing one of my best friends."

"Oh," CC said, watching as Fran's face became genuinely sad and feeling rather empathetic towards the nanny. "I'm sorry, Nanny Fine. He shouldn't be ignoring u—you like this."

Fran looked up suddenly, eyeing CC shrewdly. "I'm sorry too, Miss Babcock. This can't be easy for you either."

"What? What do you mean?" CC asked. She never should have sat on this damn couch. Too many things happened on and near this couch.

"Oh, you know, you and Niles have your little thing, and—"

"Little thing?" CC snorted. "Nanny Fine, the only thing between me and the butler is hatred."

"Eh heh," Fran pretended to agree nasally. "Is that what you're wearing to dinner?"

CC looked down at her tailor black skirt suit. "I wasn't planning on going home to change."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"No reason."

"Surely you asked for a reason."

"No, not at all."

"Nanny Fine…"

"Ok, ok, don't get that look in your eye," Fran muttered, scooting back to the other side of the couch. "I'm just saying, if I were meeting the girlfriend of a guy I…" Fran quailed under the look in CC's eyes. "Ya know what, neva mind, forget it. You look great."

"What do you suggest, Nanny Fine? Get something from your closet so I could be covered in feathers?"

"Showing your true colors?" Niles guessed as he walked into the living room, looking surprised to see Fran and CC on the couch together.

Ignoring him, CC turned to Fran. "I should get back to work. See you at dinner, Nanny Fine."

Later that day, Maxwell stood to leave the office as CC leaned against the desk, the phone cradled against her ear.

"I think dinner will be ready soon," Maxwell said to her quietly before he left the office.

CC nodded, her attention on the pad of paper in her hands and the voice in her ear. And she really was in no rush to get to this dinner. But the theater union president ended the call quicker than she'd anticipated, so CC hung up the phone and took a few moments to compose herself.

Despite what Fran clearly thought of her outfit, CC liked it. She was proud of her entire wardrobe—did Nanny Fine have custom-made suits and dresses? Her tailored suit fit her nicely, and she was dressed entirely appropriately. That being said, CC still found herself glad that she'd worn one of her shorter skirt suits today. Nothing like Nanny Fine, of course, but her legs looked good. From the two times she'd seen Niles that day, she knew he thought so, too.

Digging into her purse, she retrieved her lipstick and compact, reapplying the deep red and following her progress in the mirror. Spritzing on a little Chanel from the travel-sized bottle she carried, CC smoothed her hair and readied to leave the office. Before she opened the door, she unbuttoned the cream silk blouse under her jacket once more with a shrug.

She entered the living room while introductions were still in progress in the foyer. Keeping her face impassive, CC rounded the couch and inspected Molly, trying to ignore her and Niles's clasped hands. It bothered her that her immediate thought was _not_ that she and Niles made an unattractive couple. They didn't, she thought with a slight grimace.

If CC had to guess, Molly was probably as tall as Nanny Fine without heels, the sort of height that people regarded as _adorable_. Her thick brown hair fell in a soft wave to her collarbone and she was—CC could think of no other way to describe it—slight. She had the body type of Fran, too, slim and slender but still a little shapely. If CC didn't know better, she might have had to be jealous of Nanny Fine. Was this Niles's type? Had she been wrong this whole ti—

"Ah, CC, come meet Molly," Maxwell said in that irritating robust voice again.

CC gave a sincerely insincere smile and she was at least gratified to see Niles gulp nervously and drop Molly's hand so that CC could shake it. "Hi, I'm CC."

"Are you Mrs. Sheffield?" she asked in a voice that lilted upwards. It was the voice of a cheerful, optimistic person. This woman was literally the exact opposite of her.

Niles burst into laughter and casually slid his arm around Molly's waist. If CC were a cartoon, she mused, her irises would be flames. "No, no, never. This is CC Babcock, his business partner."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Molly said, her cheeks coloring attractively. Not attractively to CC, of course, but she could see how it charmed Niles and Max.

"No trouble at all, Molly," Maxwell said with a grin. "I wouldn't expect Niles to spend much time telling you about CC!" She looked at him sideways and saw Fran doing the same.

"Will your children be joining us, Mr. Sheffield?" Molly asked as they moved as a group toward the dining room.

"No, they've eaten upstairs in the living room. And please, call me Max," he said, leading the way down the hall.

CC snorted. "Sure, call him Max, but your boyfriend can't," she said under her breath. Molly glanced back, confused, but she saw Niles's neck stiffen and knew that he'd heard her. Good.

Maxwell and Fran took their usual seats, and CC slid into the big one's chair which she usually occupied if said big one was absent. Molly hovered uncertainly near Max's seat.

"Come sit near me, Molly," Fran said kindly, pulling out Grace's seat.

"So how does this work? Will Niles stand in the corner and eat, or…" CC asked with a smirk.

"Of course not, CC, he'll sit with us," Max answered, ignoring or not understanding her sarcasm, as usual.

Still, Niles served the meal to the entire table, and she sensed a little embarrassment from him as he did. She might have felt sympathetic, or as close to sympathetic as she could get for the butler, but she saw Niles place a warm hand on Molly's shoulder as he set her plate down. She felt almost certain that there was no extra salt on _that_ plate. Who knew what was on hers.

He served CC last, plonking down her plate and sending a piece of broccoli rolling off of it.

"Oh, my mistake, Miss Babcock," he said, picking it up with his fingers and tossing it back on the plate.

"I doubt it," she replied, pushing the piece to the side as a reminder not to eat it. He sat down next to her, across from Molly, and CC found herself, for once, wishing that the children were here so she didn't have to sit next to him.

"So, Molly, Niles said you're a caterer?" Fran asked as she cut into her chicken breast.

Molly began explaining her job while CC tuned out, spearing a safe piece of broccoli and eating it.

"That sounds fun. How did you two meet? Niles never told me," Fran said, her smiled fixed to her face even though she somehow managed to glare at Niles all the while.

"Oh, it's kind of a cute story—" Molly began.

"I'll bet it is," CC muttered under her breath.

"You can tell it, Niles," Molly said. Hearing his name from her mouth made CC want to throw the china against the wall just to hear it crash and drown out the noise. She took a considerable sip of her wine, hoping the cool liquid would douse the flames of her sudden anger.

"No, love, you tell them," Niles insisted.

Love?! CC swallowed her wine awkwardly and coughed the way a debutante should, unobtrusively. She saw the nanny glance at her quickly before looking back at Niles. CC knew it was nothing, knew it was a British term of endearment, but…

Oh, this was stupid. She was just bored with this night, with these people, and she never wore her boredom well. This had nothing to do with Niles.

"Yes, but it sounds better in your voice," Molly said coquettishly.

"One of you tell it," CC growled. She thought Fran might have snorted at her comment but the nanny was looking down determinedly at her potatoes.

Molly began telling Fran and Max about how she'd met Niles, and CC had the strangest feeling that Niles was looking at her. Like hell she'd spare a glance for the butler. But just in case he was watching, CC made sure to make a face after she took a bite of her chicken.

The conversation continued fluidly while CC floated on an isolated raft near the edge of it. She thought back to the little voice in her head reminding her that she _could_ have just left instead of staying for dinner and said a very sincere apology to it.

"Miss Babcock?" Fran's voice cut through CC's fog, as only her voice could.

"What?"

"Molly asked you a question," Fran told her. Was that a sympathetic smile on her face? CC didn't know. She turned to look at the butler's girlfriend.

"I asked if it's hard to work in a field dominated by men," Molly repeated.

CC looked at her and then felt the weight of the silence in the room. So she turned and look at Niles, raising her eyebrows. He raised his own at her innocently. "Really? Ok." She turned back to Molly. "It isn't so bad. Theater people aren't very scary."

Again, nothing from the butler who swept the peanut gallery. How disappointing.

"Well, I'm impressed," Molly replied genuinely. "Most of the men I deal with are horrendous." CC hummed an agreement and returned to her wine.

"Are you from New York, then?" Max asked before he, too, took a sip of his wine.

"Upstate," Molly replied. "I came to the city for college and stayed."

How long ago was that, CC wondered? After 25, it became near impossible to tell a woman's age. She turned to Fran. She bet the nanny would be able to guess.

"Columbia?" Max guessed.

"NYU," Molly answered.

"Ah. I'm an Oxford man myself," Max told her.

"You and Niles," Molly said with a smile. CC ground her teeth. "What about you, CC? Are you from the city?"

"My family split its time between Connecticut and Manhattan, so yes and no," CC replied.

"Where did you go to school?"

"Bryn Mawr," CC told her. Who was the one being introduced to the family, CC thought irritably, her or Molly?

"Oh, that's a nice school. It's an all-girl's college, right?" Molly asked.

_Until they let you in_, CC supplied silently for Niles, who remained quiet. "Yes," was all CC offered.

Molly turned to Fran next for conversation, and CC didn't blame her.

"Niles, this meal is delicious," Molly said after sharing pleasantries with the nanny, beaming at him.

CC didn't know if he returned the smile or not. She didn't feel like looking. "Really? My chicken's dry."

"Ah, CC, mine's perfect," Max cut in before Niles had the chance to reply. But _was_ he going to reply, that was the question. He'd been quieter than Fran's father all evening.

"How about dessert?" Fran asked, eyeing CC a little nervously. CC looked back at her innocently.

"Yes, Alfred, where's the dessert?" CC agreed, turning finally to look at Niles. He stared at a point across the table.

"Alfred?" Molly repeated, her forehead wrinkling. She looked from CC to Niles. "Is that your middle name?"

CC laughed. "No, he's Batman's butler."

"Oh," Molly said. She looked to be on the verge of speaking again when Fran stepped in verbally.

"Which makes Mr. Sheffield Batman!" she announced, deflecting attention. "Niles, how about that dessert?"

"Sounds great, Miss Fine," Niles said, standing and walking into the kitchen.

CC watched him leave, irrationally irritated. Let the manboy make googly-eyes at his little girlfriend all he wanted, but did he have to blatantly ignore her? To ignore the baits she'd laid out was nearly sacrilege to them.

He returned with a strawberry cheesecake, cutting it into equal slices for everyone at the table. Molly, Fran, and Max cooed over the dessert while CC rolled her eyes. In the split second while CC looked away, Niles tilted her plate just enough that the strawberry puree topping slid off of the cake and landed on and—CC squirmed—_in_ her silk blouse.

She screeched in surprise, capturing the attention of the rest of the room, and Niles simply set the plate down and stood back.

"Oh, Miss Babcock, I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes sparkling.

CC blotted the stain with her napkin, catching Fran's eye. The nanny looked worried. She needn't have to. "Oh, it's all right, Niles. Being a butler is _so_ challenging, I know."

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking a little disappointed. It would have been so much more gratifying for him, she knew, if she had exploded, like expected. "Well, you can just lick yourself clean, like you usually do."

There it was. CC sat back, a satisfied smirk on her face. "But aren't _you_ the stain specialist, Mr. Clean?"

"I can't clean tarps like that," he shot back, gesturing to her blouse.

"No? Aren't you used to cleaning your bedspread?"

"At least mine needs cleaning and not dusting on one side."

"Oh I'm sure yours still does," she retorted, her eyes twinkling.

"Spent a lot of time thinking about it, have you?"

"I don't know, Niles, _what would you say_?" It was low, CC knew, possibly even cruel to toss the words he'd said to her in a state of vulnerability back at him, but she couldn't resist. She didn't have to wait to see the look of comprehension dawn in his eyes; she knew he'd remember the conversation.

And perhaps she wouldn't have gone that far if he'd paid just a little bit more attention to her that evening, or if he hadn't rushed off to meet his girlfriend right after she'd left the hospital last week, or if he had given her some more time to process exactly what he'd been asking her when he'd wanted to know what _she_ would say. But none of those things had happened, and CC Babcock was not a forgiving woman.

She looked down at the stain once more and doubted anything could be done. When she looked up, Niles had rounded the table to stand next to Molly, his hand on her shoulder. She knew that was deliberate. Fran stared at her, a sad expression on her face, and CC almost felt it become difficult to swallow.

"Well, I should see to this," CC said to the silent room, gesturing at her blouse. She exited and heard the silence remain behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_I don't say much and it'll stay that way  
You got a steel train touch and I'm just a track you lay  
So I'll stay right here underneath you  
I'm just a basket case and that's what we do_

Niles lay back in the chaise lounge in the solarium, watching the spring raindrops patter against the plate glass. He had never had a more confusing, taxing two weeks in his life, and for the first time, he was grateful that Mr. Sheffield had asked him to work late that evening. It gave him an opportunity to be alone to sort out his thoughts after everyone else had gone to sleep and provided him with an excuse to avoid Molly for the night.

He didn't anticipate much success in this, as his introspection had been utterly worthless since the disastrous dinner with Molly at the Sheffield's. But there was an urgency pressing upon him now, an urgency that couldn't be ignored and dealt with five years later as Niles was accustomed to doing.

If he had only managed to maintain his even keel, if the struggle to feign insouciance for Babcock had not been so damn hard, _none_ of this would have happened.

(A lie. Niles cursed his dramatic streak. This would have happened eventually. But Niles had to deal with it now, and instead of dealing with it like a reasonable, mature man, it was easier and more fun to imagine if he had never had to deal with it at all.)

But Babcock had sauntered into the foyer with a button undone in her blouse—he'd noticed, of course he'd noticed—and she'd waltzed into the dining room and he knew, at that moment he absolutely knew, that having Molly over for dinner was a mistake.

The wrathful goddess had been on her most antagonistic behavior that night. She'd been polite to Molly, he gave her full credit for that, but she took everything out on him. Snide comments, chippy glances, easy lobs over the plate that she threw fully intending for him to knock them out of the park…

…but he couldn't. After a disastrous attempt to lightly tease Molly once, after which the poor girl looked near tears, Niles realized that version of himself wouldn't do. It was just as well. It wasn't the first signal he'd gotten in his life that he needed to grow up and relate to other people in a civil fashion.

He'd done well. He'd managed to ignore her in a way he'd never been able to in the past fifteen years. Then he'd brought the dessert out, a dessert he'd put some serious effort into, and he saw the way she rolled her eyes at him and he couldn't help himself. It was all her fault.

(Another lie. His favorite thing to do was to blame Babcock. But this time, it wasn't her fault. In a sick way, he appreciated the way she'd upped her game. All too often throughout the years, she'd lost her temper and Niles's heart soared even if his pants sometimes tightened and he'd won easily. But that night, CC was on a level all her own. She'd simply looked him in the eye and spoken to him like a lowly, stupid butler. It was what he hated most about his occupation and what he'd hated most about CC when he'd first met her. He'd never been grateful enough, he realized, for how quickly she'd dropped that tone of voice and adopted something sharper yet more playful with him. He regretted that now. Still, it was an expert move on her part. And he'd snapped.)

Oh, he'd snapped. The insults he'd hurled at her weren't particularly vicious or even that clever, but God help him if he didn't feel something that could only be described as sexual relief when they'd started bickering again. It had been one of their longest dry spells.

Then it turned sexual, as it usually did, and then CC pulled out her trump card. He hadn't thought she'd ever use it. There had been something of an unspoken agreement between them to keep their more embarrassing moments unspoken. She'd never told anyone that she had caught him dancing in his underwear, and he'd never told anyone that he'd made her cluck like a chicken. And even though she hadn't dragged their entire conversation out in front of everyone, she had used it against him. To hurt him. Maybe to point out that even with his girlfriend in the room, he still paid attention to her, not to Molly. Niles wasn't sure.

Her intentions hardly mattered. What mattered was that after carefully keeping Molly away from the mess of his private life in the Sheffield mansion, she had suddenly borne witness to the whole sloppy affair. And her questions had come, as Niles figured they would.

They'd arrived back at her apartment, and although she'd said nice things about Max and Fran, the drive to her place had been relatively quiet. When Molly had put her jacket and coat away, she'd turned to Niles, her face set.

"She practically marked her territory all over you, Niles," she told him.

"Babcock?" Niles asked with a light laugh. "No. No, I can see how you'd think that, with her dog-like features, but—"

"And what's that? Why do you insult her like that?" Molly asked.

"I'm sure you heard how she spoke to me," Niles pointed out, stepping forward and grabbing her hand.

Molly slid it away. She wasn't angry—she wasn't quick to anger, like some women Niles knew—but he could tell she was concerned.

Niles sighed. "I know it's odd. That's how Babcock and I relate to each other. We always have."

"Always?" Molly echoed. Niles nodded. "So you two were never…"

Niles had laughed, a surprisingly hearty laugh given the hellish evening he'd just been through. "No. Never."

And _that_ could have been the end of it if only Babcock hadn't loused everything up again.

(Yes, yes, another lie. Niles shook his head, his hair crinkling against the canvas covering. Perhaps he ought to see a therapist about this tendency to dramatize and outright lie to himself. _Could_ it have been the end of it? No. He didn't see how this situation could possibly end. Except now…)

The next day, CC had strolled into the mansion, her nose so high in the air she'd drown if it rained. She'd informed Niles that her blouse was ruined and Niles had shrugged her off, offering trite apologies and a promise to replace it.

"You could save for a month and still not afford it," CC told him. He thought he saw a little something in her eyes, something that might look like an apology in another woman's eyes, but he ignored it. The idea that after one encounter with the two of them, Molly questioned the nature of their relationship had unnerved Niles.

Niles only gave her a tepid smile and walked back to the kitchen. Which, he saw now, was a mistake.

He knew some people fancied CC to be a very complicated woman, but he didn't buy it. At least, he thought he understood her, as well as she could be. Half of her determination to flirt with Maxwell came from the very fact that he ignored it. CC Babcock could not tolerate being ignored.

And even though he still paid attention to her in the normal sense, the civil sense, that wasn't what she wanted from him. She wanted his usual attention: combative, offensive, and wholly aware of her.

He wanted to give that attention to her, but he understood that he shouldn't. Molly was his girlfriend. Molly was the woman with whom he'd spent the night the previous evening. Molly was the one who didn't have any trouble telling Niles how she felt about him.

This put Niles in a quandary: the more he ignored CC, the more determined she became to provoke him. But it would be fine, Niles told himself, since Molly wasn't there. CC could pull whatever she wanted and get it out of her system.

Then Molly showed up for lunch that day, and it had taken all of Niles's self-restraint not to groan upon seeing her. She'd walked into the house and rather brazenly kissed him. He'd basked in it for a few moments before remembering that he was a butler, a butler on duty, and settled his hands on Molly's waist as he pulled away. Her eyes traveled from over his shoulder to his eyes, and she smiled.

"Hi!" she said happily.

Niles smiled at her, often finding her cheerfulness infectious. "Hello. What brings you all the way over here?"

"Prep finished early for the event tonight, so I have time for a long lunch. Care to join me?" She twined her fingers with his and stepped closer to him.

"I'd love to, I would, but I have to prepare lunch here," Niles said, giving her his exaggerated pout.

She grinned at it and shrugged. "I could help you prepare it and then we could eat here?"

"Sure," Niles agreed because he'd love the company and certainly at least part of him was masochistic enough to risk CC and Molly running into each other again.

He didn't think he'd have to wait too long for CC to come into the kitchen; after they'd mutually ignored each other for a few weeks, CC now seemed determined to irritate him at any free moment.

His intuition proved correct. CC stepped into the kitchen, an empty mug dangling from her finger. After looking surprised to see two people instead of one, her eyes narrowed into the look he knew she reserved for dress rehearsals.

"Hi, CC," Molly greeted cheerfully.

CC plastered a fake smile on her face. It slid into a smirk when she looked at Niles. "Good morning, Molly. Niles."

"Can I get you anything, Miss Babcock?" Niles asked. Whatever perverse sense of excitement he'd had about this showdown disappeared at the look on CC's face. He'd thought that he might enjoy seeing her jealous but found that he did not.

"No, I found I've lost my appetite," CC replied sweetly, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring more into her mug.

"Well, that's…" Niles trailed off as CC leaned against the counter and tucked her suit jacket behind her hand on her waist, revealing a slinky, silky blouse with no small expanse of décolletage (_smooth pearly porcelain_). He cleared his throat. "Good."

"So you won't be joining us for lunch?" Molly asked.

"No, I won't."

"That's a shame," Molly said, her voice even.

"Yes, we might actually have leftovers now," Niles remarked.

CC looked at Niles, her eyes alight with amusement. "I wouldn't want to ruin another blouse, you see."

"I understand your hesitation. Your girth seems to be straining the fabric of this one already," Niles muttered.

He saw Molly glance at him but then felt her lean against him. "Clumsy," she commented with a small smile.

"Something like that," CC agreed.

Niles returned to chopping the cucumber and nearly stiffened uncomfortably when he felt Molly's warm hand on the back of his neck. But he turned to her and smiled before resuming his chopping. For one of the first times in a very long time, he had no desire to look at CC.

"Well, have fun with lunch, then," he heard CC said brusquely before the sound of her heels on the floor retreated.

"At least she wasn't as horrible as last night," Molly commented, tilting her cutting board so that the chopped vegetables slid into the large salad bowl.

"Horrible?" Niles repeated carefully. He might be a stupid man unaccustomed to making a relationship work, but even he understood that he had to treat carefully right now.

"She antagonized you all night, Niles," Molly reminded him.

Niles chuckled. "I've antagonized her for fifteen years," he replied. "What shall we do with the fish?" She looked askance at his change of subject but went along with it.

After lunch passed, a little dully for Niles's tastes with Fran being quite subdued and Mr. Sheffield preoccupied with business, Molly returned to work and Niles felt fidgety. He thought about vacuuming the second floor—it desperately needed it—but decided to take tea into the office instead. He heated up the kettle, piled up the serving tray, and stepped into the office.

CC sat on the couch, vigorously annotating a dog-eared script in her hand. Niles set the tea tray down with a clatter, and still she didn't look up.

"Tea, Miss Babcock?" Niles asked after handing a full cup to Maxwell.

"Rewrites," she muttered to herself, crossing out an entire page and flipping furiously to the next. "A month before opening and _rewrites_." She wrote something with such gusto that Niles heard the paper tear underneath the pen; CC swore.

"Tea?" Niles repeated, a little louder. He glanced over at Mr. Sheffield and saw him poring over the same script—though his contained admittedly less writing.

"Of course, because _that_ will be easy to stage," CC mumbled, curling out a large, dramatic question mark next to a set of stage directions. "Idiots…_oh_ these idiots…"

Niles walked over to the green leather couch, a mug of steeping tea in his right hand. He tried not to look too closely down her blouse as he rested his hand gently on her shoulder. The tenseness he felt there made him want to gently massage her until she relaxed.

"What are you doing?" she snapped at him, yanking him out of his stupor.

"Do you want tea?" he asked, holding out the mug.

She took it from him carefully, but she still glared. "And that required touching me?"

"I tried to get your attention," Niles replied, rolling his eyes. "In any case, I should think you'd appreciate a man's touch, it's been so long."

"And if you were a man, perhaps I'd appreciate it," she tossed back.

Niles glared at her but silently marveled at how she could balance a script on her crossed legs and still write on it while holding a mug of tea aloft in her left hand.

"Is your girlfriend still here?" CC asked, and Niles hurriedly took his eyes off of her. He'd mistakenly thought that she'd gone back to working on the script and ignoring him.

"No, she went back to work."

"Hm. I guess she doesn't have _everything_ in common with Nanny Fine, then," CC said, absentmindedly scratching a checkmark near a long monologue.

"What?" Niles asked, removing the teabag from Maxwell's mug and setting it on a saucer with a light _slap_.

"Your girlfriend. Mandy. She's a lot like Nanny Fine," CC explained, looking up from the script and blinking a few times, adjusting her eyes. "You Brits definitely have a type."

Niles blinked back at her, but for a different reason. "Molly isn't like Miss Fine." And Miss Fine certainly isn't my type, Niles wanted to say.

She laughed and shook her head, letting the script fall to the empty cushion beside her. "Please, Niles. Tiny nymph of a woman. Dark hair. Annoyingly cheerful."

"That—" –isn't my type, Niles almost said. But that would be dangerous to admit. "—isn't something I'd considered before. But I'd hardly say that Miss Fine is my type."

CC gulped her tea down far too fast. American, Niles figured. "I've seen you look at her. And I'm pretty sure Nanny Fine is most men's type." She stood, set her empty mug on Maxwell's desk, and walked out of the office.

Niles understood the invitation. It's what they'd always done, even if they hadn't so much lately. There was a large part of him that wanted to follow her, to ease the tension he'd felt in her shoulder, to somehow reassure her that he'd looked at _her_ much more than he'd ever looked at Miss Fine, but how could he? How could Niles possibly do the things he wanted without being a complete arse? How could he even sit here and admit to himself that there were things he wanted that involved CC?

He vacuumed the entire second floor several times over and only reemerged on the first after she'd left for the day.

Then a week had passed in relative peace and Niles (stupidly, now, he realized) had even dared hope that this harmony might last. He forgot that the sweetness of peace is so great only because of its transience.

Fran planned a family s'more and movie night, a little reluctantly suggesting that Niles bring Molly along. He'd hesitated for more reasons than he cared to consider—one of which being the utter awkwardness of being a part of a family event while still being the butler to that family—but Fran's enthusiasm infected Maxwell enough to encourage him, too. CC turned down the invitation before Fran had even finished asking her to come, and Niles said a silent, grateful prayer.

Still, an overlap between CC's departure and Molly's arrival occurred and Niles's stomach flipped a little. He'd managed to stave off any more questions from Molly about CC, but the topic still hung in the air—or perhaps it was just that she very seldom left his mind.

Niles busied himself preparing a formidable tower of s'mores on a plate, secretly stashing a few he'd made with the good chocolate on the counter near the stove. The rest of them could have Hershey's. He took the plate into the living room, finding the family, Miss Fine, and Molly set up around the television. Setting the plate on the coffee table, he laughed when the entire plate disappeared almost at once.

"The movie hasn't even started yet," Niles pointed out.

"Which means you have time to make some more!" Fran said with a grin, graham cracker crumbs outlining her dark pink lipstick. The suggestion received such enthusiastic kudos that Niles waved them off, stepping around them back towards the kitchen.

"Want some help, sweetie?" Molly asked.

Niles smiled and brushed her hair back. "No, I've got it. I'll be back before the opening credits are through."

She returned his smile and settled back into the couch.

Back in the kitchen, Niles set rows of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallow stacks back on the cookie sheet and slid it back under the broiler in the oven. When he heard someone enter the kitchen, Niles kept an eye on the treat in the oven as he said, "I said I don't need any help."

"I've never been any help to you," CC's voice responded, and Niles couldn't help it: he beamed like the damn fool that he was.

"Exactly," he replied, and he turned around to catch CC's reluctant grin. "Did you change your mind about the movie night?"

CC shook her head. "No. I just came in to get a bottle of water before I leave."

Niles turned back to the oven and retrieved the cookie sheet just as the marshmallows started expanding and caramelizing. He set to work making sandwiches out of the separate elements and paused when he felt CC staring at him.

"What are those?" she asked.

"S'mores," Niles replied. At CC's blank look, Niles tsked. "I know why _I_ hadn't heard of them before I moved to this country, but come on, Babcock. You're a shame to America."

"For several reasons, I'm sure," CC said, her lips curving into a smirk. "Come on, Hazel, dish. What are they?"

"Graham crackers, chocolate, marshmallows," Niles said, pointing out each layer as he named them. "Would you like to try one?"

"Sure," CC agreed indifferently, but Niles knew her well enough to spot the gleam in her eye, the same one he saw when he made his chocolate and peanut butter cake.

Niles grabbed one of the s'mores he'd been saving for himself near the stove and handed it to her, sliding a plate under it.

She bit into it, the graham cracker crumbling as the frothy marshmallow mixed with the melting chocolate. CC closed her eyes in rapture. "Oh my _God_, this is good."

Niles took a calming breath and tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that _this_ was why he made her favorite treats. He added s'mores to his mental list. "Need a smoke, Babcock?"

"Nearly," she replied thickly, her mouth still half-full.

Her sticky fingers covered in crumbs, her mouth smeared with chocolate, Niles smiled affectionately at her child-like enthusiasm for the treat. "I'm glad you like it," he told her.

She finished the s'more, licking the remnants of it off of her fingers with little suctioning sounds, while Niles put together the s'mores for the rest of the family. He stepped across the island, the plate resting on his right palm, and stopped in front of her, laughing.

"What?" she asked.

He didn't want to tell her about the chocolate on her face—the woman had an irritating habit of using his clothes as a napkin—so he reached forward, wiping the smear off with his thumb. He accidentally (accidentally?) brushed it across her lips in an attempt to get all of the chocolate off, and Niles paused his movements when he saw her eyelids drift shut at the contact. His palm rested against her cheek (_flushed like a sunrise_) and he experienced such an intense, overwhelming desire to kiss her that he nearly dropped the plate of s'mores on the ground to replace his thumb with his mouth.

So of course, _of course_, this was the moment when Molly came into the room, her voice preceding her, asking if Niles was sure he didn't need help. The opening credits had finished. Niles moved his eyes, though for some reason not his hand, and watched as Molly took in the situation before her.

It was CC who stepped away, who brushed her palm against her mouth to remove any remaining chocolate, and who sidestepped Molly to exit the kitchen quickly. She kept her eyes on the ground the entire time.

"Molly…" Niles began, but he was so grateful that she began talking because he'd had no idea what to say.

"Let's go watch the movie," she said, keeping a half-smile on her face. She took the plate of s'mores from him and he'd followed her out to the living room.

But there was no foolish optimism this time. After the movie had finished, Molly had followed Niles up to his room and began talking before he'd even shut the door.

With a loud sigh, Niles sat up from the chaise lounge and rubbed his face with his palms. And herein lies the problem, he thought ruefully. He reached down to retrieve his whiskey, taking a bracing sip. He could still see the set look on his girlfriend's face as he'd turned to face her, but it had taken him a full thirty seconds before he'd been able to process her words.

"I don't want you to see CC anymore."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_You're beggin' for the truth  
So I'm sayin' it to you  
I've been saving your place  
And what good does it do?  
Now I'm just a basket case_

"Molly, what are you—" Niles had said, once he'd fully understood what she had told him.

"Look, Niles, that night when you were two hours late for our date and you never called?" Molly began, crossing her arms across her chest. "When I found out it was because of some other woman, I was ready to never talk to you again. But then you explained that she works with Max, and then I realized you'd known her for a while, and I figured you were friends."

Niles had opened his mouth to protest, but protest what? How could he hope to explain his relationship with Babcock?

"I mean, yes, you seemed to mention this 'Miss Babcock' a lot, but I figured you were just good friends, like you are with Fran," Molly continued, half-looking at Niles. "Then that dinner, I…I don't know. The way you looked at each other. I thought there was something between you."

Niles made a sound of protest but Molly snapped her head to his and he silenced himself.

"You said there wasn't. I believed you. But when I came for lunch…" Molly trailed off and shook her head. "Maybe you don't realize the way she acts around you, I thought. I don't know. But then tonight…"

"She had some chocolate on her face," Niles reasoned.

Molly looked at him, a little desperately. "Niles, I'm going to ask again. Is there anything between you?"

"She's just…" Niles shook his head. Whatever CC was to him, she wasn't _just_ anything. He tried again, "She's a…" Friend? Playmate? Why wasn't there a word for what she was to him?

"You aren't really helping your case here."

Niles sighed. "Molly, I don't know what Miss Babcock is. She's not exactly a friend. But I've known her for fifteen years."

"And she isn't your friend? After what I've seen, I don't really believe that you hate her."

"No, I don't exactly hate her…"

"Then what _exactly_ is it?"

"I don't know," Niles repeated.

"I don't know how you don't know," Molly replied. She stopped herself and shook her head, recrossing her arms tightly. "Fine. That isn't what I wanted to talk about anyway. Whatever it is, your interactions with her make me uncomfortable, especially after what I saw tonight. So I don't want you to see her anymore."

"I'm sorry that she makes you uncomfortable but…but she works in the same house, Molly. I don't know how…"

"I understand that. But you're the butler and she's the business partner, Niles. I'm sure your work doesn't demand that you're in the office with her all the time," Molly said quickly, as though she'd thought through this dilemma.

Niles could think of no way to refute this without admitting to her (and himself) that he'd spent more time cleaning that office than any other room in the house. (In fact, there were many rooms in the house he hadn't set foot in for years, too afraid of the layers of dust and cobwebs he'd find.)

"I know you'll still _see_ her," Molly said, her face softening, "but maybe don't…seek her out. Do you think you can do that?"

"I…I've known her for fifteen years, Molly," Niles said again.

"You've said that already," Molly said, irritation seeping into her voice and onto her face. She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. "Why don't you think about it for a little bit?"

Niles nodded and then stepped in front of her as she made to leave his room. "What if…what if I can't agree?"

Molly looked at him, her eyes sad. "I told you how I feel. We can talk in a couple of days."

They shared a chaste, quick kiss before Molly had left his room.

Niles blinked, bringing himself back into the present. Their conversation had taken place roughly 24 hours ago and Niles still didn't know what the hell to do. He supposed he should be grateful that it was the weekend and that Babcock was off doing whatever it was she did on the weekends.

(How did he not know? How had he known this woman for fifteen years and never once figured out what she did in her spare time? What did that say about him?)

Either way, she wasn't here, and Niles supposed that made it easier for him to think.

(No, it really didn't.)

He had called Molly, and true to her word, she was giving him a couple of days to think. She hadn't questioned him about his decision at all. They'd had a short conversation about their days and about their (separate) plans for Sunday.

Slumping miserably against the chaise lounge again, Niles stared up at the massive skylight. A petulant, immature part of him yearned for someone to tell him what to do so he could eschew any responsibility.

Logic told him that agreeing to Molly's request made the most sense. She was his girlfriend, had been for a few months now, and she was the greatest shot he had at long-term happiness.

(The illogical, stupid, irrational part of him screamed that Molly's request did _not_ make sense, that he couldn't _possibly_ agree to not see CC again, that she was such an essential part of his day and his _existence_ that he couldn't fathom a day without her.)

But it bothered him, more than he'd ever realized, that he couldn't put a name to his relationship with Babcock. The defensiveness he'd felt when Molly had questioned him grew out of the dawning realization he'd had in that moment that it was practically laughable that he didn't know what to call it. Friends? No. Acquaintances? No. Co-workers? No. Lovers? No. Friends/enemies/sparring partners/playmates/occasional makeout partner did not seem an adequate (or appropriate) response. Everyone else in his life had a label. Everyone could be categorized. Everyone except for, predictably, the irascible, superior, beautiful, irritating Babcock.

Fran had asked him, several times that day, what was wrong, but Niles didn't know what to say. He had a feeling that he knew what Fran's response would be to Molly's request, but she was too motivated by emotion. On the opposite spectrum, he could practically hear Mr. Sheffield's response: _Old man, what sort of question is that? You don't even like CC! Molly's your girlfriend, chum, you should see to that_.

He wondered what CC would say.

Swallowing the rest of his drink, Niles left the solarium and went straight to his bedroom, anticipating a fitful night's sleep.

Niles finally relented after lunch the next day. He hadn't slept well, and it worsened his mood all the more. Though he'd decided to put the issue out of his mind, he still thought about it for most of the day—only now, thoughts of CC brought a little pang to his heart. He found this too difficult to cope with on his own.

So when Fran followed him into the kitchen after lunch and leaned against the counter, Niles knew he'd give in before she even opened her mouth.

"Niles, are ya gonna talk to me or should I not even bother?" she asked, watching him carefully place the plates in the dishwasher.

"I'll talk."

"Because I'm not sure how much more I can—oh!" Fran said, her eyes popping open. "It's about time! Should I get the coffee cake?"

"Miss Fine, we just had lunch."

"You're right, you're right. I'll grab cookies instead."

Moments later, the two friends met at the kitchen table with a plate of chocolate chip cookies between them.

"So what's been going on? Dish! We haven't talked in so long," Fran said, biting into a cookie. She smiled brightly, clearly eager to talk to her best friend, but Niles saw a little sadness in her eyes and felt a pang of guilt at how he'd been avoiding her lately.

"Mostly, I need to discuss what happened Friday night."

"The movie night?" Fran asked quietly, her forehead rumpling. Niles nodded. "Well, what happened?"

Niles sighed. "Molly asked something of me, and I'm not sure I can do it."

"Does it involve toys?" Fran asked. She nodded knowledgably. "Honey, I know, it's scary at first, but if you come up with a safe word…"

"No!" Niles exclaimed, though he couldn't help laughing. "Miss Fine, I don't need any advice about a kinky sex life. She asked something else."

"Oh," Fran said, deflating a little. "What'd she ask, then?"

"She doesn't want me to see Miss Babcock anymore."

Fran opened her mouth to respond and then clamped it shut. Seeming to choose her words carefully, she offered, "I didn't think you were seeing much of her to begin with."

Niles eyed her. "Not like _that_. She doesn't want me to…to seek her out."

Fran lifted her eyebrows and Niles felt a little irritated that she hadn't responded with any sort of surprise. "What did you say?"

"I haven't said anything! That's why I need to talk to you!"

"Well, what do you think you should do?"

"Miss Fine, my girlfriend just requested that I no longer have any contact with Miss Babcock, and that's all you have to say?" Niles asked, a little incredulously. He grabbed a cookie and split it in half, tossing it onto his plate.

"I dunno what to say, Niles," Fran admitted, taking another bite. "I can't tell you what to do—"

"Yes you can. All you do is tell other people what to do with their lives."

"I do not. I give _suggestions_, maybe a little nudge," Fran corrected.

"Fine. Nudge me."

Fran looked at him. "Ok, I shouldn't have said I can't tell you what to do. I should've said that I won't tell you what to do."

"Why not?"

"It's your relationship, Niles," Fran responded with a shrug. "I don't like to get involved in other peoples' relationships."

"Oh, Miss Fine…"

"Ok, ok, even I know that one's a lie. I do like to get involved. Fine. Why'd she ask you this in the first place?"

Niles squirmed. "Well, she brought up the time I was late for a date because I was at the hospital with Miss Babcock."

"Uh huh."

"Then she talked about the dinner we all had."

"Mm hmm."

"Then she mentioned when she came for lunch last week and the way Miss Babcock and I act around each other."

"Eh heh."

Niles shifted in his seat again, reluctant to bring up what Molly saw in the kitchen. "She just wanted to know what Miss Babcock and I 'are'," Niles continued, using sarcastic quote marks, "and I didn't know how to explain it."

Fran nodded. "Makes sense. No one can explain it."

Niles smiled gratefully at her. "What should I do, Miss Fine?"

Fran looked at him sympathetically and pressed the tip of her finger into a chocolate chip. "Niles, I…" She shook her head. "You've known her for fifteen years."

"That's what I told Molly."

"I…Niles, I don't think it's very fair of her to ask you to do something like this," Fran said carefully, looking at him closely.

"No, but—"

"But what? Maybe you can't explain what she is, maybe there isn't a perfect word for it, but she's a part of your life," Fran said, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, but so is Molly," Niles pointed out.

"If she's that insecure about your relationship, then maybe there's more you need to work on than cutting Miss Babcock out of your life."

Niles felt a surge of irritation, and though he knew it wasn't because of Fran, he couldn't necessarily point it in the right direction. "Miss Fine, I don't think criticizing my relationship is called for here."

Fran raised her eyebrows again. "Niles, you just asked me for help because your girlfriend of three months asked you to go complete radio silence with a woman you've known for fifteen years. I think a little criticism is called for here."

"I hardly think it's necessary to say anything like that. I asked for your advice about what to do."

"I hardly think it's necessary to continue a relationship based on an ultimatum," Fran retorted. "You asked for my advice, and I gave it to you. You need to talk to Molly about your relationship. She has no right blaming Miss Babcock."

"Why not, the woman ruins everything else," Niles muttered.

"Oy, Niles, I love ya, but ya really need to grow up," Fran said, standing up and pushing her chair in roughly.

"Since when do you defend Babcock?"

"Since she did nothing wrong here!" Fran exclaimed. "You've changed since you started dating Molly, and she's noticed it too."

Niles rolled his eyes, his irritation flaming into anger. "I knew I never should have talked to you about this."

"You asked for my advice, and I gave it," Fran said, stung.

"And I regret it," Niles snapped. The kitchen door swung open as Fran stomped up the back staircase and Niles pushed his chair aside as he stood.

"What was that about?" CC asked, looking from the stairwell to Niles with raised eyebrows. She dressed semi-casually for work on a Sunday, wearing a soft red shirt and black slacks. The realization that she looked just as beautiful irked him even more.

"Is that your business?" Niles snapped, snatching the plate of cookies and setting them on the counter with more force than necessary. A few cookies fell and crumbled.

"Trouble in paradise, Alice?"

"My life could hardly be called paradise."

"Ah. Molly Maid not the bright ray of sunshine you thought?" CC guessed. He saw a ghost of a smirk grace her face and he clenched his jaw.

"She's perfectly lovely," Niles disagreed. "_You're_ the problem, as always."

This took CC aback and she leaned her right hip against the counter, crossing her arms. "Oh? Well, do explain. I love being a source of problems in your life."

"Then I regret to inform you that Molly has requested that I not see you anymore," Niles told her with a fake, ugly smile on his face.

Surprisingly, CC laughed. "That's ridiculous. What really happened?"

"That did. She doesn't want me to associate with you anymore."

She stared at him and repeated, "That's ridiculous."

"Oh? Why?" Niles asked. His anger still simmered in his stomach, but a little spark ignited near his heart.

"Because…well, I work here. How are we supposed to not interact?"

"She said I don't need to work in the office that much, that I don't need to seek you out."

"Caterer's thought of everything, hasn't she?"

"Evidently. What are your thoughts?" he asked her.

She'd been staring blankly off but turned her eyes back to him at his question. "My thoughts? What does it matter what I think? Do whatever the hell you want with your little girlfriend."

Niles clenched his jaw again and looked away from her. If he'd been hoping to see some sort of change in her behavior, her posture, her face, he'd surely been let down. CC stood there as though Niles hadn't just said something that could potentially change everything between them. Couldn't those eyes (he was too tired to think of anything poetic about them) have softened at least a little? This damn woman.

"So it wouldn't bother you, Miss Babcock, if we never interacted again?" He couldn't help but remember the last time he'd beseeched this woman to give him something, anything, to hang his hat on. Perhaps that should have given him his answer.

CC laughed, a quick, harsh dissonance. "Jesus, Niles, it would be the best gift you've ever given me. All I've wanted for fifteen years is for you to leave me alone."

He looked at her, his anger slipping away as though she'd released a valve on him. Their eyes met until it became uncomfortable, and he saw a flicker of confusion cross her gaze. Niles turned and went upstairs to call Molly.


	9. Chapter 9

[A/N: Billions and billions of hugs and appreciation to the people who review this. You give me life. KB91, you make me feel like I can actually write? Kate811, you make me feel like you aren't a heap of garbage person. I love you all. Enjoy.]

Chapter 9

_Won't somebody come on in and tug at my seams?  
Oh, send your armies in of robbers and thieves  
To steal the state I'm in, I don't want it anymore_

CC leaned back in the theater seat, watching the dress rehearsal unfold. What a terrible week. No, scratch that: what a terrible _month_. Year. Life. Take your pick.

Her work held a small amount of responsibility for this. Normally, CC loved preparing for a new show. The more hectic it became, the more CC reveled in it. Her micromanagement paid off in the most gratifying way: a flawless opening night. But CC had never liked this script, she hated their "precocious" young leads, and, well, being knocked unconscious onstage very seldom boded well for a show.

Then the rewrites started, later than she usually ever allowed it, but the playwright demanded to be more involved than CC usually allowed, too. The actors had understandably balked at the changes, and CC was forced to put out more fires than she ever preferred to among the creative types.

But her job almost always wreaked havoc on her life. This was not new. But a caterer named Molly was, and CC frowned as she thought of her.

CC had almost enjoyed dinner with the caterer present. Watching Niles squirm and decide between playing nice for Molly and being himself with her had been the most fun she'd had in a while. A ruined blouse was a small price to pay.

But then the caterer had shown up the next day for lunch and had watched CC over Niles's shoulder as she'd kissed the butler. At first, she gave the girl credit—it was a ballsy move that she hadn't reckoned the caterer capable of. But then the kiss went on and CC wanted to throw up and claw out those horrible brown eyes.

The feeling passed, though, and CC Babcock rarely backed down. She recognized Molly's behavior as a demonstration, a performance of her relationship with Niles. All right, if the tiny woman wanted to play games, CC would beat her. So she'd sauntered into the kitchen, ready to pony up. She'd teased Niles, and to her pleasure, he'd responded as he was supposed to do. She even let her suit jacket gape open, revealing her slinky blouse beneath, and felt a thrill of victory as Niles's eyes trailed over her.

But the triumph fleeted and CC saw the caterer put her hand on the butler's neck and knew she couldn't stomach this much longer.

And then…and then…CC sighed. She'd never admit to still being able to feel Niles's thumb on her lips—just as she'd never confess to still feeling Niles's palm against her bare back during their drunken kiss—but it was there and it drove her crazy. These little hints and inklings of something more between them had always been confusing, but pleasantly so: a whisper of a promise of someday, maybe. But they were nearly unbearable when Niles had a girlfriend, she knew now. There was no whisper, just a cold reminder that he was taken.

Then the caterer pulled out her own trump card. She pitted herself against CC, made the butler choose between the two. And if CC had _known_ that Niles had been serious when he'd asked what her thoughts were…

Well, CC still didn't know what she would have said. But still. Here the butler was again, asking for so much in such a simple way. What did he expect from her?

In her defense, CC thought as she shifted in the seat and placed her clipboard in her lap once more, she had never once thought that Niles was being serious. Perhaps he'd been serious about what Molly had requested, but she'd never thought that he would _actually_ go along with it.

But the last week had passed and she realized that he _was_ serious. She hadn't even seen him until Wednesday when he came in with a tea tray. Her head buried in a script, she hadn't even noticed he was there until he left. And for some terrible, likely stupid reason, she thought she might cry.

So she'd stood up, bottled and capped her emotions, and headed off to the theater. The house was his turf, anyway.

But even when Niles made himself busy in the rest of the house, probably cleaning rooms he hadn't cleaned in years, the rest of the house felt awkward. Nanny Fine and Niles evidently were not speaking, and from what CC could gather, Maxwell's reluctance to get involved only incensed the nanny further.

Now it was Friday, a full two weeks since she'd spoken to him, and CC felt the strain of spending almost the entire time at the theater. Despite Niles's regular pranks and Fran's regular interruptions, she realized that the manse was actually something of a reprieve from the chaotic theater. She wondered momentarily if this was how her life would be if she never spoke to Niles again.

"All right, take five," CC called out, ignoring that one of the actors was mid-soliloquy. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and rubbed her eyes.

"Rehearsals going all right?" Maxwell's voice asked. She looked up and saw her business partner take the seat next to her.

CC shrugged. "They're off-script, finally."

Maxwell nodded. "You've done well here, with all of the changes and whatnot."

"Thank you," CC said, a little mollified. Maxwell rarely acknowledged her successes.

"Ah, look, CC, we don't normally discuss matters like these, but…is there something going on at the house?"

CC raised her eyebrows, quelling the urge to laugh. "What do you mean, Maxwell?"

"Well, Miss Fine isn't speaking to Niles, or myself, apparently, and Niles is nowhere to be found. Actually," Max amended, "I _did_ find him before I left, washing the windows in the upstairs living room."

"Rubber Maid willingly washed windows?"

"Yes. That's when I realized something was amiss."

CC snorted this time; she couldn't help it. "Well, as far as I know, Niles's girlfriend told him to stop spending any time with me, Niles agreed, Nanny Fine didn't, and they had a fight. I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, she's angry with you for not stepping in."

Maxwell paused, taking it all in. "I understand the second half of what you said, but…Molly told Niles to stop spending time with you?"

CC nodded, glancing down at her clipboard.

"But that's…well, that's ridiculous!" Max said, chuckling uncomfortably.

"Ridiculous that she asked or ridiculous that Niles agreed?"

"Both, actually."

"I agree."

"I'm sorry, CC."

"For choosing to put on this terrible play? It's about time."

Maxwell frowned. "For the fifth time, I _like_ this play and I think it'll do well, and that isn't what I was apologizing for."

CC nodded, hoping that the gesture would prevent him from continuing. It didn't.

"I know that you and Niles are…well…I know that he's…"

CC smirked. "That's about as far as I can get, too."

"I know that he's something to you, and you're something to him," Maxwell settled on. "It's unfortunate that it's come to this."

"Thanks, Max." He was right: they very seldom discussed personal matters, mostly because he was British and she, a WASP, and dealing with emotions wasn't either of their strong suits.

"I'm sure it'll all work out," he said heartily.

CC smiled at him, pretending to believe him, and wrangled the actors back on stage again. They settled into a thankful silence as they watched the dress rehearsal continue.

Even if it did work out, what did _working out_ look like? CC didn't know how to figure any of this crap out. Her life would be so much simpler if the butler didn't mean anything to her. Bright side, CC reasoned, was that she might get a chance to make that a reality if he planned on ignoring her for the duration of his relationship with the caterer.

The remainder of rehearsal passed smoothly enough that CC allowed everyone to go home for the day, and she began toying with the idea of returning to her penthouse, ordering takeout, and indulging in a bath when Maxwell asked if she could return to the office and look over the budget projections once more.

After sharing a cab, they arrived at his home and walked through the living room. CC paused as she saw Fran pouting on the couch; Maxwell, hearing the office phone ringing, hurried inside to answer it.

"What's the problem, Nanny Fine?" CC asked.

"Oh, nothing," Fran sniffed. "It's just, Niles and I always watch our soaps together and he didn't watch them with me at all this week and Nina's wedding was today! We've been looking forward to this all winter!"

"I'm sorry," CC said awkwardly. "Was it a nice wedding?"

Fran looked at CC in disbelief. "Miss Babcock, the wedding started today. The only thing that happened was that all the characters drove to it. It's May Sweeps!"

CC pretended as though all of those words meant anything to her. "I see. That's…unfortunate. I can't believe the butler is still mad at you."

Fran rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's so _stubborn_. To tell the truth, I think he's more mad that I stuck up for _you_ than for disagreeing with his girlfriend."

"You…you stuck up for me?" CC asked.

"Well, he _asked_ for my advice, and I gave it, and I said she had no right blaming you because you didn't do anything wrong."

"Damn right! Well, good for you, Nanny Fine. It isn't your fault that Mr. Clean didn't like what you had to say."

"You're right," Fran said, standing up and stomping her foot. "He shouldn't ask for advice if he doesn't really want it."

"And he shouldn't listen to some stupid caterer when she blames _me_ for the shortcomings in their relationship."

"Oh, ya know, Niles didn't tell me anything about their sex life, actually," Fran said conspiratorially.

CC looked at her confusedly and then snapped her head up when she saw Niles enter the foyer from the hall. "Oh, no, Nanny Fine, I'd better go—I wouldn't want anyone to get in trouble."

Fran turned around and saw Niles. She tsked and left in the direction of the staircase while CC headed for the office.

CC perked up back inside the office. She'd never ganged up on Niles with Nanny Fine before, and it proved to be a real bolster to her mood. For once, the household wasn't against her: Fran defended her, Maxwell (in his own British way) expressed his disapproval, and the butler was the one on the outside. This was…well, this was damn near phenomenal!

With a bounce in her step at the end of the day, CC left the office and smirked when she saw the flaps of Niles's suit jacket whip around the corner of the hallway. A nasal snort told CC that Fran had heard it, too.

"I don't know _how_ he expects this to work," Fran told CC, rolling her eyes. She flipped to another page in her magazine.

"Forget the butler. Let's go out, Nanny Fine," CC suggested.

Fran looked up from the glossy images, her eyes wide. "Out? Like in public?"

"Sure. We could get dinner! Sushi was fun, wasn't it?" CC asked.

"Eh…yeah. Fun. Maybe we could just get drinks," Fran said.

"You don't want to get food?"

"And appetizers. Maybe we could split an entrée. And a dessert. I could go for a cup of soup. And—"

"All right, let's figure that out after we get there," CC suggested.

Five hours, four martinis, three shops, two bars, and one entrée later, CC sat forward on her bar stool and declared, "And you know _another_ thing about Niles?"

Fran brandished a half-eaten onion ring at CC, a cascade of curls covering one eye. "Miss Babs, you said we were gonna forget Niles."

"Did I? I think you're wrong. Anyway, the other thing I hate—" CC continued, reaching for her martini and finding it empty. "When did I drink this?"

Fran narrowed her eyes at the glass and then glanced down at her hand. "When did we order onion rings?"

"We didn't."

Fran cackled and ate it anyway, slurping down some more of her colorful, sweet drink. "Ok, so, what were you sayin' about Niles?"

CC paused and tried to remember what else she was going to say. Having failed, she tried to remember the other things she'd said about him that evening. She scratched her cheek before replying, "I…well, I hate him. I just _hate_ him, Nanny Fine."

"Ya keep saying that," Fran said, shaking her head and finishing her drink. "You sure talk about someone you hate a _whoooole_ lot.

"Because he's infuriating!" CC protested, making what in her mind resembled a logical argument.

"All right, fine, but if he hates _you_, why did his girlfriend—" CC made a retching sound "—tell him to stop seeing you? Makes. No. Sense."

"Ugh, Nanny Frine, can we stop talking about Niles?" CC asked, rolling her eyes. She signaled to the bartender to refill both of their drinks.

"Then stop bringin' him up!" Fran exclaimed. She crumpled her face again. "Did you call me Frine?"

"Fine!"

"I know, that's my last name."

"No, I meant ok, we'll stop talking about Niles, Fine."

"Speaking of Niles, do you think you'll really never talk to him again?"

CC grinned fetchingly at the bartender as he set two new drinks on their bar table and took the empty ones away. "Talk to who?"

"Niles."

"Ugh, I hate that man."

"I _know_," Fran groused, rolling her eyes. "But do you think it'll really work? You guys not seeing each other? _Eva_?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him in two weeks," CC said a little sadly.

"Pheh, don't you get sad about him," she told CC bracingly. "You're better than that. Who's he think he is, huh?"

"Cheers," CC said heartily. They missed each other's glass but didn't seem to notice or care.

"It's lucky my drink doesn't have any alcohol in it or I'd be a mesh right now," Fran slurred.

CC stared at the nanny, her gaze steady if her posture swayed slightly. "Your drink has alcohol in it."

"It does?" Fran shrieked, her eyes popping. All at once, she calmed, shrugged, and took another sip through her straw. "Good thing I've only had two, then."

"That," CC said, pointing in the general direction of Fran's drink, "is your fifth."

"Five!" Fran exclaimed. As if suddenly realizing how drunk she was, Fran whimpered and set her forehead against the table. "I wanna go home."

CC pat the top of her head consolingly. "All right, let's go." She stumbled over to the bartender and handed him her credit card, nodding when he asked if she'd like him to call a cab. She signed the receipt in something that slightly resembled her handwriting and went back to their table. Polishing off her martini, she nudged Fran, who gave a loud snore.

"Lightweight," CC muttered to herself as she poked Fran, hard, in the side.

The nanny yelped and sat up so quickly that she nearly toppled over in the other direction. CC grabbed onto her, getting a good amount of her hair, and kept her still.

"Come on. The barman called a taxi," CC told her.

"Ooh, who went shopping?" Fran asked, her eyes half-closed, as she took in the bags around their chairs.

"We did, I think," CC said, glancing down at herself. "Huh. When did I put this on?" The yellow empire-waist sundress suited her, no doubt, but it didn't look like anything CC would ever put on herself willingly.

Fran squinted at her. "Aw, Miss Babcock, you look adorable! You've got great taste."

"I think this is your taste."

"Nah, I'm not into that stuff," Fran said, waving her off. She grabbed as many bags as she could carry and staggered off in the wrong direction. CC scooped up the remaining bags and hooked Fran's elbow, swinging her towards the exit.

They sat side-by-side in the cab of the taxi, CC vacillating between happy drunk and angry drunk. She should've stuck to dark liquors, she told herself as she rested her head against the seat. Vodka made her too unpredictable.

"Ya know what," Fran said, suddenly opening her eyes and sitting forward.

"What?"

"What?"

"You talked first."

Fran looked at CC as though she were crazy and lay back against the seat again, resting her head on CC's shoulder. A few moments later, she shot up again. "Ya know what?"

CC rolled her eyes. "What?"

"_You_ should go talk ta Niles," Fran told her, nodding knowledgably.

"I'm not s'posed to," CC mumbled, closing her eyes again.

"No, no, ya need ta stand _up_ and give him a piece a your mind," Fran encouraged, nodding and leaning back against the seat once more.

"Yeah!" CC said, liquid fire incinerating any vestiges of sadness that she'd never admit to, anyhow.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!" CC cried heartily. The taxi stopped outside of the Sheffield manse and she tossed a handful of cash through the opening in the partition.

"Ooh, he's cute," Fran said, leaning back into the taxi.

"Oh, no, you don't," CC told her, pushing her out of the way and closing the door behind her, the many shopping bags almost upsetting her balance.

"He was cute!" Fran protested.

"Fanny Nine, you're hung up enough on the guy in there," CC reminded her, pointing towards the front door.

"Niles?" Fran said, breaking up into raucous laughter. "Nah, Babsy, that's _you_."

"That's me what?" CC asked as the two women staggered towards the front door.

"Heh?" Fran asked as she dug into her tiny purse, rattling her keys as her hand continued missing them. Unearthing them, Fran held up the mess of metal and bright, furry things in confusion.

CC rolled her eyes again, grabbing the keys, locating the correct one, and sliding it into the lock on her third try. She pushed open the door, nudging Fran in ahead of her, and closed the door behind her, proud of herself for remembering to lock it.

"Where are you going?" CC asked as Fran tottered over to the couch and dropped facedown onto it, her calves dangling over the arm. Fran made no response so CC dropped the shopping bags near the small table and peered over the couch. "Nanny? Are you awake?" CC shook her head when Fran responded with a small snore.

In the dim light—of course Niles remembered to turn on a light for Fran, she mused—CC made her way to the staircase, taking each step carefully and purposefully. She reached the top of the stairs, her purse clutched in her hand, and wondered for several minutes which way it was to the guest rooms. She stepped down one hallway and, encountering a fork, turned right. She had a vague feeling that the children's and Nanny Fine's rooms were to the left while the guest rooms and servant's quarters were to the right.

"Guest room…guest room…" she muttered to herself. Why didn't this overdone museum of a house have placards declaring what each room was? She made a mental note to suggest that to Maxwell on Monday. Niles would know what each room held, even if he didn't clean all of them as he should have.

"Horrible servant," CC said, a surge of anger and sadness blooming in her. She chose to focus on the anger.

"Guest room?" CC asked herself as she paused in front of a door. Further down the hall, she could see another hallway leading to the left (to Maxwell's room, she believed) and, at the very end, the back staircase to the kitchen.

CC reached forward, grasping the cold bronze doorknob and turning it. Another dim light met her eyes, but in CC's drunken haze, it felt much brighter than necessary. Why was the light on in the guest room?

"Babcock?" that hateful, beautiful voice asked. Dimly she saw him removing a pair of glasses and setting them atop an open book that he'd left on his bed.

"Why are you in the guest room?" CC demanded with a surprising amount of boldness, given her appearance and state.

Now he stood in front of her, thankfully blocking some of the light from his bedside lamp, and CC blinked, taking him in. Why was the butler so underdressed?

"This is my room," Niles told her.

"You sleep in the guest room?"

"Bloody hell, woman, you smell like a distillery."

CC gave him her haughtiest glare and straightened her posture fully. "And you smell of a variety of beach-blased cleaning products, but I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Beach-blased?"

"Yeah."

"You mean bleach-based?"

"That's what I said, janitor."

"Ok, woman, let's get you to the guest room," Niles said, stepping forward just as CC lunged forward with an exaggerated gasp. She covered his eyes with her right hand, while her left forearm rested against his chest. She settled her fingers against his collarbone. She silently admitted to herself, grudgingly, that his current fragrance did not seem _beach-blased_.

She leaned forward and, in her inebriated state, assumed she was still at a reasonable distance. In fact, she stood closer to him than she had in weeks.

"Babcock, what are you doing—"

"Sshhh," she shushed dramatically, her head falling forward and her lips landing in the crook of his laugh lines. She spoke again, her lips moving tantalizingly close to the edge of his own, "'S against the rules, Niles. Can't see me."

They stood there for an amount of time, an amount CC found herself unable to calculate as she let her eyes drift shut and thought that this, right here, wasn't too terrible of a place to fall asleep.

Then Niles reached forward, placed both hands on her waist, and gently pushed her away. "The guest room is that way."

CC forced her eyes open and started when she saw that Niles's eyes were no longer covered. "Niles, you aren't s'posed to see me."

He gave a heavy sigh. "It's fine, Miss Babcock. The guest room is down—"

"Speaking of, your nanny is mad at you."

"Oh?" Niles said, and though CC's energy dissipated from her quickly, she could tell Niles was perhaps even more tired than she was.

CC nodded. "Yeah. _Yeah_. She said I should give you a piece of my mind."

"Well, go on. It can't take that long, I don't imagine there are many pieces left."

CC laughed the way she usually wanted to when he insulted her. It rang out, louder than she realized (she'd had five martinis, after all). When she finished laughing, she leaned against the doorframe and let her eyes slip shut again. This may not be as comfortable as the butler's face, but CC felt she could probably sleep just as well here.

She jumped, startled, when she felt a hard poke in her stomach. "Hey!"

"Go to sleep, Babcock," Niles told her. Was he smiling?

"I'm trying to!" CC objected, walking forward once more.

He reached out and grasped her waist again, this time not letting go. "We've already established that this is my room."

She peered at him inquisitively. "You sleep in the guest room?"

"It's late," Niles told her.

"I know. Why are you still awake?"

"A certain blonde baboon is keeping me up."

"That's not nice, Niles," CC admonished. "You shouldn't be talking to me at all, you know. Your girlfriend wouldn't like it." A look of distaste crossed her face.

Niles sighed again. "Let's not discuss—"

"She's nice, Niles."

"I…y-yes…"

"So nice," CC sighed, looking down and realizing his hands were still on her. So warm. "Like Nanny Fine. Such _nice_ women."

"I suppose…"

"I'm not nice," CC said suddenly, pushing Niles's hands away. "Am I?"

"Not typically, no," Niles replied.

CC looked at him, her face bare. She reflected regretfully that she was now officially sad drunk. "I guess it makes sense why she's your type. Nice 'n all."

"That isn't what I meant," Niles muttered.

"'n makes sense why you'd agree," CC continued, yawning.

"Agree to what?"

CC rolled her eyes and regretted it at once; it sent her head reeling. "Not talking to me 'nmore." CC looked at him, sizing him up. "Ashamed of _you_, Niles, didn't think you'd let a girl boss you around."

"I let _you_ boss me around for fifteen years," Niles pointed out.

CC chuckled, though to her ears, it sounded more like a giggle. Only CC Babcock didn't giggle. Nice women like Fran and Molly did. "Didn't think you actually listened. I woulda given some better orders if I knew." She winked at him, or at least she thought she did; she might have just blinked purposefully.

"And there's the cue. Let's get you to bed, Babcock."

"Yeah, somethin' like that," CC teased, though Niles didn't seem to understand. He stepped out of his room and, keeping a steadying hand on the small of CC's back, guided her further down the hallway. He opened a door on the left, nudging her in and pulling the covers on the bed back. "Guest room?"

"Yes, Miss Babcock, the guest room," Niles said patiently.

CC's knees hit the edge of the mattress and she dropped willingly onto its soft surface, her eyes drifting shut.

"Not yet, woman," Niles grumbled, tugging her into the correct position and pulling her shoes off. CC sighed happily, her head nuzzling into the pillow.

Then it was dark—were her eyes closed or were all the lights off?—and she didn't know where Niles had went and found, in a hard punch of knowledge right in her gut, that she wished he hadn't left the room, or maybe it went deeper than that and she wished he'd never decided to find a stupid girlfriend in the first place, and dimly, the last thing she could make out right before she succumbed to sleep were the words slipping from her mouth like bits of silk, "I miss you."


	10. Chapter 10

[A/N: I dedicate this chapter to great friends and great reviewers. Any writer understands the importance of reviews, for gratification and motivation, so I appreciate every person who takes the time to review. Thank you.]

Chapter 10

_You're beggin' for the truth  
So I'm sayin' it to you  
I've been saving your place  
And what good does it do? _

Niles awoke the next morning groggily, struggling for several minutes to open his eyes. Because he'd waited for Miss Fine (he'd told himself, several times and with increasing severity, that he hadn't waited up to see if CC returned with her), he'd gone to bed much later than usual. Because of a blonde nightmare he'd been suffering from for fifteen years, he hadn't been able to fall asleep once he finally turned out the lights and climbed into bed.

Ever since he'd agreed to not see Miss Babcock anymore, he'd been dealing with a considerable amount of self-hatred. Yes, Molly seemed happier, and yes, he was a better butler for it, but who even noticed if he swept out the wine cellar? He was usually the only one who ventured in there, anyway. What surprised him the most, though, was how much everything else seemed fractured. Miss Fine was _not_ happy with him and because he wasn't happy with himself, either, he projected that onto Miss Fine. So they weren't speaking. For some reason, Miss Fine also ignored Mr. Sheffield, who retreated to the safety of the office.

No, the four of them didn't often spend a great deal of time together, laughing and swapping stories. But the office had become the meeting post, of sorts, for all of them, and now that it was off-limits to Niles, and Fran wasn't speaking to any grown man in the house, the house loomed quiet.

(Yes, he missed CC, and no, he wasn't going to talk about it. He also missed Fran, too, and thought that overall, she was right in her assessment of his relationship with Molly, but was he likely to admit that? No.)

So then Babcock and Miss Fine formed some sort of unholy alliance and left the house together the previous evening. Mr. Sheffield said nothing but merely appeared relieved at his momentary reprieve from his nanny's iciness. So Niles had cleaned up from dinner, turned off the lights around the house except for a table lamp in the living room, and holed up in his own bedroom.

But then…Niles sighed and looked at his alarm clock. It was still several minutes before 8am, and the family never expected breakfast before 9 on the weekends. Niles had enough time to reflect and feel sorry for himself. He righted his head on the pillow, sighed again, and stared at his ceiling.

But then, Miss Babcock showed up at his door. Niles had initially thought it was Miss Fine when he heard noises outside of his door—she usually wanted a midnight snack after a night out—so he hadn't been in any hurry to get off his bed. But the door swung open and the dim light of his bedside lamp had illuminated Babcock (_blonde goddess_) looking dangerously adorable in a soft cotton dress. It wasn't particularly revealing, and it wasn't very form-fitting, but she looked resplendent in it. Half of her hair had been pinned back during the day, but throughout the night's activities, errant strands had shaken loose and framed her face. One in particular stuck to the corner of her mouth (_succulent rubies_) and Niles had stared at it, entranced, while she'd asked him why he was in the guest room.

It would have been fine if…

(Why did he always have to tell himself that everything with this infernal woman would have been fine if…? Difficult harpy.)

Anyway, it would have been _fine_, he felt certain, if she hadn't been playfully drunk. It was a toss-up with CC and drinking; there were more versions of her that could emerge than there were crayons in a 64-box of Crayola. His favorite, he thought with a private smirk, was handsy drunk Babcock, of course, but for his current state of affairs, playful Babcock proved even more dangerous. It only served to remind him…

Niles sighed. It only served to remind him how dreadfully _fond_ he was of her.

Her eyes bright with drunkenness and exhaustion, CC had stumbled over her words before suddenly remembering that seeing him was _against the rules_. Something in him rebelled against that, found himself disgusted by it, and Niles supposed it wasn't CC saying it but the fact that he even had to abide by it that bothered him.

She'd covered his eyes, stumbled into him, and pressed her lips so goddamn close to his that for a fraction of a second, he considered taking advantage of her. That was when he knew he had serious thinking to do.

He'd let her lean against him for longer than he ought to have before he placed his hands on her slim waist (_too aroused to think of poetry_) and carefully pushed her away. Leaning against the doorframe, she'd nearly fallen asleep and it took a sharp poke to her belly for her to snap awake again. He couldn't help the smile that crested his face, nor could he help keeping his hands on her waist this time when she tried to come into his room again, refusing to accept that it was not, in fact, the guest room.

Then it turned interesting—because it always turned interesting with her—and she started talking about how nice Molly was. Pushing his hands away, she'd continued discussing Molly and then asked Niles if she, CC, was nice. In response, Niles said no, not typically.

In his defense, it was a poor choice of words. He meant that in the typical sense, CC wasn't nice. Because she wasn't nice in the way that Fran was. But in her own, slightly twisted, way, CC could be kind.

But she'd misinterpreted it and to his utter horror, _tears_ actually swam in her eyes. Yes, she was drunk, surprisingly drunk, but she'd never drunkenly wept before (that he knew of). Then CC returned to her favorite topic of late—Niles's "type" of woman, as though she had any inkling of a clue as to what it actually was—and Niles had tried to rephrase and tell her he'd meant otherwise, but it was a halfhearted fight. CC wouldn't have been receptive to a logical explanation, anyhow.

Then she showed signs that she was becoming handsy drunk and Niles knew he had to help her find the guest room. But there was something she'd said, something about giving him better orders (such as telling him to get into bed) if she'd known he was the type of take orders from women, that he couldn't get out of his head. Perhaps he should've gotten CC drunk before asking her questions concerning their relationship years ago. Could've saved a lot of time.

He'd helped her into bed, his heart aching at seeing her head against a pillow, seeing how she curled up onto her side immediately, and turned out the light. After releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Niles had stepped back and watched her for a few moments. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw CC stir a little restlessly and then heard her give a little sigh.

Except it wasn't a sigh. It was words. Three words, escaping from her mouth because she was drunk and tired and sad. Words she likely never meant to say out loud and would never remember having done so.

But that didn't mean that Niles didn't remember.

Pushing his covers back, Niles ambled into his bathroom and flipped on the light, rearing back in surprise. He leaned forward, inspecting the smudge of deep red Chanel lipstick on his cheek. He lightly ran his fingertip over the stain before he turned on the shower and waited a few moments for the water to warm up.

She missed him. _She missed him_. Perhaps it was that it had been whispered in the dark against a pillow, but Niles couldn't recall a drunken confession ever affecting him this much before. Or maybe it was just because it was CC.

He showered and dressed, his movements a little clumsy as he kept staring at the clock and realized he was cutting it quite short now. Leaving his room, he walked down the hall and peered into the guest room. He hadn't figured she'd be there, but he still smiled at her sloppy attempt to make the bed. He hurried down the back staircase and threw a few pans on the stove. The clatter echoed as the kitchen door swung open. Fran shuffled in, still in her dress from yesterday. She yawned and tried to cover her eyes and ears all at once.

"Good morning," Niles told her, his voice purposely quieter.

Fran looked up at him and smiled weakly. He reached into the bread cupboard and removed a few slices, setting them on a plate and handing it to her.

"Soaks up the alcohol," he told her.

Fran nodded. "Thanks. Coffee?"

"In a few moments." Niles removed a carton of eggs and package of bacon from the fridge, walking back to face the stove. He hesitated a few moments before asking, "Big night last night?"

"Must have been," Fran mumbled, thumping into a chair at the table and taking a tentative bite of bread. "Did Miss Babcock stay here?"

"She did."

Fran nodded. "Ya know…" She yawned widely, cringing as Niles whisked eggs in a bowl. "I actually had fun with her last night. From what I can remember."

Niles poured the beaten eggs into the pan. "She has her moments, I suppose."

"She brought you up a lot."

"She did?" Niles replied quickly.

"She did."

Niles stirred the eggs, not sure what to say next.

"I don't wanna start a fight, Niles, but I think you should talk to Miss Babcock," Fran said slowly, as though she weighed each word carefully. Niles turned to face her and the nanny stood from her chair, walking over to the island and pouring herself a mug of coffee. "I just think it's bothering both of you more than you both think." Cupping her mug with both hands, Fran left the kitchen.

Niles turned back to the stove, flipping eggs and turning bacon on autopilot. He slid both onto separate platters and pushed more bread into the toaster.

The thing was, he'd already _made_ his choice. Hadn't he? At the very least, he'd hoped that his decision would have brought him some semblance of peace or clarity.

He set the platters of eggs, bacon, and toast on the buffet in the dining room and refilled the carafes of orange juice and water before hurrying out of the mansion.

The trip to her building on Park Avenue didn't take as long as he'd thought it would, but he knew that was better than the alternative. It was better, he told himself, to let curiosity drive him than allow doubt to take over. He stepped into the lobby, and the middle-aged man behind the front desk greeted him amicably.

"Morning, Niles."

"Morning, John," Niles returned with a smile.

"Miss Babcock isn't in her penthouse," John informed him.

"Oh?" Confusion washed over him. Where could she be?

"She went down to the gym about forty minutes ago," John explained, pointing to a door on the other side of the lobby.

Niles smiled, more at the memory of CC bragging about the fitness center that had opened in her building for its residents than anything else. He recalled how CC had bristled when he'd asked if the steroids just weren't cutting it anymore. Oh, what fun they had.

"Business?"

"What?" Niles asked, snapping out of his nostalgia.

"Are you here for business?" John asked.

"Oh…yes, Mr. Sheffield wanted me to pick her up for a meeting," Niles lied smoothly.

John nodded and grabbed a keycard. "Come on, then." He stepped out behind the desk and led Niles to the door he'd indicated earlier, sliding his card through the reader and pushing open the door for him. "Down the steps, to the right. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," Niles said, walking through the doorway and down the steps. The construction was a little more than a year old, but Niles practically imagined he could still smell the paint on the walls. He turned right at the bottom of the stairs and walked through an open doorway into a long, narrow room with gleaming fitness equipment.

He stepped to the side and nodded at a man, a little older than he was, who left the gym with a towel draped around his neck. Miss Babcock was the only remaining person inside, jogging on a treadmill situated halfway through the room, facing away from him.

Walking further inside, Niles stopped a polite distance away and was surprised to find her wearing a thin black halter with red running shorts that Fran might have worn. The whir of the machine drowned out any other noise, though the rhythmic slap of her sneakers cut in. He stood watching her, the motion of her long, shapely legs hypnotizing him. Each muscle defined itself as it hit the ground, and Niles didn't even need to think of flowered language: she _was_ poetry.

Then she reached out and slowed the machine, walking for a few moments before she shut it down and hopped off. Bending over, she retrieved a bottle of water and a towel from the table between the machines.

"God, Niles! Put a bell around your neck, would you?" CC shrieked as she turned around, pressing a palm to her chest.

"Since when do you work out?" was his greeting.

She rolled her eyes. "It's a phenomenal hangover cure."

"So every day, then."

"Who let you in? Did they think you were a visiting maid?" CC asked, uncapping her water and taking a great gulp of it. She pulled the bottle away from her lips with a slight suctioning sound and Niles almost shivered.

"I came here to—"

"To inform me of some more restrictions on your behavior? Did she prohibit you from coming within fifty feet of my building now?"

Why did she have to look so lovely with her sweaty hair in a messy ponytail? "Do you remember what you said to me last night?"

"No, but I'm sure it was funny. I'm pretty hilarious when I'm drunk."

"You don't remember any of what you said? 'I miss you'—you don't remember that?" he asked severely. A bead of sweat traveled down her chest and between her breasts, and he wished he didn't find its path so tantalizing.

She glared at him as harshly as he'd spoken the words to her. "Sounds like something you'd dream I said."

"Christ, Babcock! Stop…stop _tormenting_ me. Do you have to attempt to ruin everything for me?"

"Listen, servant," she hissed, more formidable in sweaty workout clothes than most men hoped to be in power suits. "If your relationship with the caterer isn't the walk in paradise that you hoped it would be, that _isn't_ my fault. Maybe you should look at your girlfriend, who issues ultimatums instead of proclamations of love."

"That isn't—"

"Zip it," she snapped, stepping forward and pointing the lid of her water bottle into his chest. "You walk around like some wounded puppy, pouting and blaming me, feeling so damn _sorry_ for yourself, and of course the lazy butler finds it so _easy_ to blame me for his problems. I don't ever recall stepping in the way of your relationship."

Niles stared into her eyes, fiery with her sudden anger (was it sudden, or had it been brewing all this time?), and as he usually did when someone pointed out his faults, he set out to prove that he was not the only one with blame. "I asked you, Miss Babcock."

"You asked me? You asked me what?" CC snapped, irritated.

"I asked what you thought of my relationship. And I asked what you thought about Molly's request."

"And?"

"What do you mean, _and_?" Niles threw at her.

"You ask me one question and you expect _me_ to understand what it meant?" CC cried, squeezing her water bottle. Water sloshed out and onto her hand; she wiped at it with quick, tight movements.

"It was a question. It meant what it meant. I wanted to know what you thought of my relationship."

"Oh, ho ho," CC returned, her fake laughter illuminating her face. "Niles, get real. Nothing ever means exactly what it means. Not with us."

"Maybe not," Niles conceded, "but…"

"But?" CC pressed.

"You were jealous," Niles said, and he heard the desperation in his voice. Any attempt at a serious conversation between them almost always devolved, and he grasped desperately at any straw around him to prevent it from happening.

"I knew inhaling ammonia fumes after all these years would eventually take its toll," CC said, faux-regretfully.

"You deny being jealous?" he asked her, trying not to snort in disbelief. She was _textbook_ jealous. She was a case study in jealousy. The US government would soon demand that she legally change her name to Jealousy.

"Exactly what am I jealous _of_, Niles? That I'm not an insecure caterer? Or that I'm not dating a butler who is so close to the poverty line that he might as well give up the façade and cross it, finally?"

Niles deflated. What was he doing here? But then he looked at her and saw her victory mask and his anger blossomed again. "At least I tried."

"Tried _what_?"

He made a noise of frustration and looked around, trying to find something else to settle his eyes on. But he couldn't necessarily resist the magnetic force of her baby blues so his eyes found hers again and he said, "I was waiting for you."

"And I'm waiting for you to explain yourself, so if you could do that at some point—"

Niles shook his head, cutting her off. "No, I was…_waiting_ for you. I was…saving a place for you."

CC looked at him, and he saw confusion and worry swirl in her eyes. Then she blinked, chuckled, and shook her head. "Who told you that was a good idea?"

She stepped around him and left the gym, hurrying up the stairs.

"Miss Babcock, wait—" Niles tried, jogging after her.

CC pushed into the lobby with Niles nearly at her heels, but he froze when CC barked at John, "Don't let him up."

"Of course, Miss Babcock," John replied tepidly.

"And for the record," CC snapped, rounding suddenly on Niles, "showing up at my building at 9am and speaking in riddles does _not_ count as trying. And neither does asking vague questions."

She stomped over to the back of the lobby, jabbing at the elevator button, and stepped inside. The doors slid shut and Niles tried, without the hope of success, to make eye contact with her.


	11. Chapter 11

[A/N: Thanks to those sticking with this story. One more chapter after this!]

Chapter 11

_Now I'm just a basket case_

CC blew into her apartment like a hurricane, the slam of the door echoing throughout the empty space. Her heart raced faster than it had during her run; she felt the blood pounding through her face.

How dare he—

Who did he think he—

What did he expect—

CC nearly growled in frustration. The man prevented her ability to form coherent mental sentences.

First, he showed up reminding her of the embarrassing things she'd said while drunk. Wasn't there a social code prohibiting that? Then, he had the nerve—_the goddamn nerve_—to suggest that _she_ ruined things for _him_? Oh ho ho, _oh ho ho_, Butler Boy didn't stand a chance after that. CC had finally let loose all the things he'd deserved to hear since he first started moping around the mansion in his robe with his pints of ice cream. She watched as her words dismantled the pedestal he'd concocted for himself out of self-pity and a false notion of victimhood. Normally, she didn't deploy such tactics against the butler; out of a strange sense of loyalty, CC never wanted to actually tear him down the way choreographers and lighting contractors deserved.

But, CC thought, he deserved it. Because then he'd made his sad eyes and reminded her that he'd asked her—oh yes, he'd _asked_ her, of course, and from _that_, CC was to deduce exactly what he meant and felt and understand that it wasn't the set-up for a joke about how _he_ had a relationship and _she_ didn't.

"Oh, sure, hey, Miss Babcock, my stupid girlfriend said she doesn't want me to see you anymore, what do you think of that?" CC said aloud, crushing her empty water bottle and throwing it across the room. It fell unsatisfyingly to the ground, making nary a sound, and CC restrained herself from throwing anything with more heft. He wasn't worth it.

Yes, he'd asked her, and how exactly was she supposed to say to him that it genuinely hurt her feelings that he'd considered agreeing to it? He should have laughed in that silly woman's face at the idea that he'd stop talking to someone he'd known for fifteen years. But of course the near-celibate butler chose the sure thing. When it came right down to it, to the nitty-gritty, stark, painful truth, Niles always chose someone else over her. People usually did.

Still, CC congratulated herself for not knocking the butler out cold by that point. No, instead, she reminded him that nothing ever meant _what it meant_ between them. There were too many layers and double-meanings to sift through before you _ever_ got to the truth, and even then, it likely wasn't the truth but a falsehood spun out of the desire to protect oneself.

And the Oxford-educated butler (his entire life, CC decided, was an oxymoron) sputtered and stammered until he had the _audacity_, the _gall_, the _balls_ to accuse her of being jealous. Jealous! CC Babcock, jealous?

CC let out a quick, disdainful laugh but stopped, unnerved by its echo.

Instead of then saying _something_, instead of trying to, in turn, blame CC and then pick her brain so she'd admit something first—did he _actually_ think she'd ever admit anything first?—Niles turned fatalistic and claimed he'd tried.

CC shook her head, toeing off her sneakers and ripping her socks off as she headed towards her bedroom. The idea that Niles had tried was pathetic. If he truly thought anything he'd ever done towards or around CC could qualify as _trying_, then he really did need to just marry the caterer because it was unlikely he'd ever get any woman ever again.

Absolutely any time he'd come close to trying—and CC was fair, she allowed three separate times he'd tried in the past several months: the first time he'd asked her about Molly, when he'd visited her in the hospital, and the latest time he'd asked her about Molly—he ended up backpedaling so far that, were one to log his miles, he'd likely be back in England by now.

Didn't he _know_, didn't he _understand_ that she needed more than an olive branch wrapped in hints and teases? How had he been in her life for fifteen years and _still_ didn't know her well enough to know how she needed to be dealt with?

Did she miss him? Maybe. Was she jealous? What…that was such a…what did that even _mean_?

She pulled her halter over her head, tugged her ponytail loose, and turned on the shower, waiting for steam to billow around the bathroom.

Anger welled up in her again, dragging something that felt like sadness along with it, and CC stripped off the rest of her clothes and threw them violently at the hamper. She stepped into the shower, the water like bullets on her skin, and wished he'd never come to her building at all. What a horrible way to start her day. (Although waking up at 6am with a horrible hangover in the guest room at the Sheffield mansion wasn't exactly the greatest start to begin with, she granted.)

What was he even doing here, anyway? She pooled shampoo into her palm and lathered it in her hair, wondering if he'd tell Molly that he'd been to see her. That wouldn't go over well. Silver lining, CC thought grimly.

She finished her shower, her mouth set in an angry line, and ran a comb through her wet hair, watching in the mirror as a blurry figure did the same. Wringing the water out of her hair, CC wrapped a white towel around herself and thought that Niles was probably with Molly right now, eating brunch. She didn't know why she thought of brunch. It just seemed like something Molly would insist they do.

"Stop thinking about the butler!" CC demanded to herself in the mirror, pointing her comb at her reflection. She nodded and turned on her heel, heading into her bedroom to get dressed.

There was the other thing he'd said, of course. _Things_, if you counted his revision for clarity. That was…it was…well, CC didn't want to think about the other things he'd said. What was the point in getting a little hopeful about something that she'd likely misunderstood or he'd likely pretend he hadn't said?

There was no point in replying that she'd been expecting him to wait for her.

Glancing out of the panel window in her dressing room, she saw the sun shining and pulled down a navy blue cotton dress from her rack of dresses. No sense in wasting a beautiful day, she thought to herself as she slid the dress over her head. Chester would enjoy a walk in the park, too.

As she towel-dried her hair into soft waves, CC considered that at least work next week wouldn't be awkward since Niles didn't speak to her anymore when she was there. They'd always ignored the more emotional things that might occur between them (and there were quite a few drunk phone calls throughout the years that both parties politely pretended to have never happened), but a cloud of awkwardness hung over both of them as they feigned nonchalance. Things were _there_ between them, a messy history and a wealth of embarrassments, and they didn't always go into hiding where they belonged when Niles and CC interacted throughout the day.

But now, CC thought as she sprayed hairspray in a halo around her head, she wouldn't have to make uncomfortable eye contact or figure out how to proceed. She grimaced a little when she realized this didn't offer as much relief as she'd hoped it would.

She applied nothing more than a light layer of mascara and a swoop of neutral eyeshadow before sliding her pedicured feet into a pair of flat silver sandals and walking into her living room.

"Want to take a walk, Chester?" CC asked. At the magic w-word, Chester launched himself from the couch and ran in frantic circles around her ankles as she stood at her closet, grabbing his leash from its hook.

She latched the leash to his collar and locked her door behind her. Dog and owner stepped into the elevator and CC broke into a light trot as Chester pulled her excitedly to the doors. John sent a smile her way, which CC returned, and the doorman held open the door, greeting Chester and then CC. The Pomeranian hurried onto the sidewalk and continued on the familiar path down two blocks to the entrance for Central Park near the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Chester led CC to his favorite trees and landmarks while his owner enjoyed the warmth of sunshine on her shoulders. He paused to stare down other dogs and then rushed to the path around the Reservoir, slowing to a canter as he sniffed and took in his surroundings. All at once, Chester raced forward, tugging on the leash. He ran and began sniffing the leg of someone seated on a bench at the edge of the running track, rearing on his hind legs and scratching as though he wanted to be picked up.

"I'm sorry, my dog—" CC began, then stopped when she realized who it was. "—has bad taste."

Niles smirked up at her, squinting in the sun.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Her voice didn't sound as angry as she wanted it to.

"I'm sitting on a bench in Central Park."

"I see that." CC watched Chester scratch at Niles's leg until Niles acquiesced and scratched the pup under his chin. She wondered if he'd been sitting there since he left her building that morning.

Niles glanced back up at CC and, finding that she still watched him, said, "Is that ok with you?"

She shrugged. "Do what you want. Come on, Chester." She began to walk off but the dog, so intent upon taking a walk earlier, now seemed content to stay with the butler. She tried, unsuccessfully, a few more times to get Chester to follow her and then sighed. She sat down next to Niles on the bench and found the wood warmed from the sun. "I'm surrounded by such stubborn men."

Niles remained quiet, now petting Chester's sides, and CC nearly squirmed from discomfort. Had she ever been in a silent Niles's presence? She didn't think so.

"All right, why are you sitting on a park bench by yourself like a sad old man?" CC suddenly demanded.

Niles eyed her and then turned his face back to Chester. "I am a sad old man."

CC snorted and continued watching him interact with her dog. "True, but you've never acted like it before."

"I thought you were angry with me, Miss Babcock," Niles told her in a quiet voice.

With almost a start of surprise, CC realized that she _had_ been but that she'd forgotten. In all fairness, though, her behavior wasn't exactly unprecedented. How many times, throughout the years, had she been fuming mad with him and then shared a laugh about something unrelated twenty minutes later? It's how they were.

"I'm an adult, Niles," CC replied smoothly. "I can still act civil."

This time Niles snorted. "All right."

That settled, CC continued, "But really, Niles, why are you here? It's a lovely Saturday afternoon. Shouldn't you be sharing this with your girlfriend?"

Niles glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes inscrutable. "Perhaps if I had a girlfriend, yes."

CC's eyebrows shot up involuntarily. "You don't have a girlfriend anymore?"

Niles shook his head, turning back to the Pomeranian who was currently stretched out on the warm concrete. "I haven't for several days now."

CC resisted the urge to run across the reservoir to test if the lightness she currently felt meant she could float across water. "That's…a shame."

"I don't believe you actually think that, and I suppose it isn't, really," Niles replied.

"What happened?"

"I broke up with her."

In her mind's eye, CC saw herself twirling on the water as though it were an ice rink. "But why?"

"Days before you gave me the advice to _look at my girlfriend who issues ultimatums instead of love proclamations_, I did just that."

CC blinked, remembering their fight from that morning and snippets of their interaction the previous night. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did."

"I hate when people respond like that. That wasn't my question. Why didn't you tell me _before_?"

Niles looked at her as though hopeful that she would pick up on it without him saying it. If so, his hopes were misplaced.

"Well?"

The butler sighed and leaned back against the bench. Chester craned back to look at him before standing up again and whining.

"Oh, now you want to take your walk?" CC asked him. She looked over at Niles as she stood. "Is your big butt glued to that seat or do you want to join us?"

She watched as he glanced at her rear before he stood up too. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"Just because the only type of house _you'll _ever be able to afford is a tiny glass replica of one," CC tossed over her shoulder, the breeze catching her hair and flowing through her skirt. With a grin, she heard Niles's quick footsteps catching up with her.

When Chester paused to sniff a suspicious rock, CC shifted her weight to her right foot and glanced over at Niles.

"What?"

"What did you mean when you said you were waiting for me?" she asked evenly.

She saw how surprised he was at the question. Had he forgotten the expected turbulence of their interactions? Had it been that long?

"Niles, that's the second question that you haven't answered. I'll start getting testy."

"Start? When did you stop?"

"Don't deflect."

Niles sighed and they began walking unison again as Chester moved on. "We don't usually have these kinds of conversations."

"Maybe we should start," CC suggested before she could reign in her tongue.

"I'll answer a question if you answer a question."

CC turned to look at him, arching an eyebrow. "Fine. Answer mine first."

"What was your question?" Niles asked innocently.

"Why are you so annoying?" CC exclaimed, startling the passing joggers.

"Well, Miss Babcock, I believe it's because—"

"That is _not_ my question," CC interrupted, poking a finger into his arm. "What did you mean when you said you were waiting for me?" She glanced over and saw his hands trembling slightly.

"I…well, I suppose I…" He sighed. "I fear that, for a long time now, I've been counting on _you_ being…being a part of my life." He shook his head; CC saw the sunlight reflecting off of his hair as he moved. "Not just a part of my life. I hoped…_more _than hoped…that at some point, it would be us. I was waiting for you to realize that, too."

CC darted her eyes to his and, finding them too overwhelming, looked back out across the reservoir. She hadn't figured that, in asking him that question, she'd be expected to come up with a response to what he said.

Luckily, Niles continued, "Now I get to ask my question." He rubbed his hands together eagerly and she felt a rush of gratitude for this man who knew her well enough to not demand a reply to what he'd just said. "Did you miss me, Babcock?"

CC smirked and ran her tongue over her teeth. She looked at him and saw the beginnings of a lopsided grin on his face. "Maybe."

"_Maybe_? I pour my heart out to you—"

"That explains the smell."

"—and you give me a maybe?" Niles pushed on incredulously.

"There were times," CC began cautiously, "when I missed you."

Chester abruptly stopped and sat down. With a sigh, CC crouched down and lifted him up, nestling him in her arms.

"He has tiny legs so he gets tired," CC explained, pivoting on her heel and turning around. Niles mimicked her movements.

"Which times, exactly?" Niles asked.

CC rolled her eyes. "We didn't agree to more questions."

"Hey, _you're_ the one who was mean to me earlier. I just thought you'd appreciate the chance to redeem yourself."

"You've been mean to me for fifteen years!" CC objected, stopping at the bench Niles had been on earlier and sitting down. Chester curled up to her left while Niles sat down to her right.

"Fair enough. One more question apiece."

"Deal."

"Were you jealous?"

CC paused. "Yes."

"Why?"

"We didn't agree to follow-up questions!"

"Fine, then you can ask me two questions. Why were you jealous?"

"Because…" She trailed off and watched a bird skim its wings along the water. "Because I thought you were waiting for me."

Niles gently brushed his knuckles against her hand. "Your turn."

"Why were you sitting on a park bench hours after I kicked you out of my building?"

"I was contemplating a life apparently spent wasted waiting for a socialite to notice me."

CC smiled and didn't try to hide it. Part of her—most of her—wished he'd touch her hand again. "Why didn't you tell me that you broke up with Mindy?"

Niles shrugged and his shoulder lightly kissed hers. "I am…a horrible cad for agreeing to not see you and for avoiding Miss Fine."

"And for ignoring me for three months."

"And for ignoring you for three months," Niles agreed. "I loathed the idea of running to tell you that I was single and 'allowed' to see you again. I've deserved all of the terrible things you said about me."

CC flicked her head in a strange half-nod and covered one of her hands with the other in her lap. She'd momentarily forgotten about all of those things. She bit the side of her lip and watched Chester sleep.

"Miss Babcock, I'm so sorry," Niles said. She raised her eyebrows and looked at him. Apologies were new and not entirely unpleasant. "I never should have—"

"Chosen her over me?"

"No," Niles disagreed, shaking his head. "It might appear like that but no. You're in a league all your own. But I know it probably felt like that and I'm sorry."

She shifted, uncomfortable, but stopped when she felt her arm press against his. She settled there and hoped he'd take it as an acceptance of his apology.

"Do you want to know the truth, Miss Babcock?" Niles asked.

"Have you been lying up until now?"

"No, of course not, woman. But would you like to know the _entire_ truth?"

"Fine."

"I realized I had feelings for you six months ago," Niles began, "and I…I didn't handle it all that well."

CC did the math and replied sarcastically, "You mean because you ran out right away and got yourself a girlfriend? No, you didn't."

"It wasn't right away!" Niles protested. He sighed. "But you're right. I didn't think I had any chance at all with you. It was equally troubling to realize I'd had feelings for you for quite some time."

"How long?"

Niles eyed her so CC relented.

"Fine. One more question each. How long have you had feelings for me?" she asked him.

"Oh, anywhere from several months to a decade, give or take."

CC smiled, absently petting Chester's head as he napped. "What made you realize it? Yes, yes, two more questions," CC added, gesturing impatiently with her free hand.

"When you kissed the French tutor," Niles replied with a sigh. "I could barely stomach you throwing yourself at Mr. Sheffield but seeing you with another man caused me to realize…well, it caused me to realize that I very much hated seeing you with one."

CC nodded slowly, quickly but thoroughly reorienting her experiences over the past six months with Niles. Suddenly, everything made a twisted, warped kind of Niles-sense. "You get two questions now."

"What do you do in your spare time?" he asked.

The question so surprised CC that she spun her head to look at him and couldn't think of a thing to say in response. But he looked at her with such genuine interest and not a hint of malice that she softened towards him. "I…well." CC paused, stumped as she usually became when someone asked about her hobbies. "I read. I watch tv or movies. I usually read scripts to get a head start on Maxwell so I can talk him out of whatever terrible idea he comes up with next. If my 'friends' are in town and not vacationing—so only three months out of the year, tops—I'll have lunch with them or help plan a benefit. If I've had to spend too much time around brainless nitwits—so any week I spend too much time at the mansion—I'll go to a museum or any other place with culture."

Looking out at the water, Niles smiled fondly at her response.

She mimicked the position of his head and reminded him, "You have one more."

"May I hold your hand?"

No, _this_ question surprised her more. But then it didn't, not really, so CC smiled too and replied, "Sure."

He reached over without looking, trusting that his hand would always be able to find her own, and laced his fingers with hers. She thought she heard a tiny sigh escape his lips, but perhaps that was just the breeze.


	12. Chapter 12

[A/N: Yes, this story is finished now, and no, it wasn't finished after chapter 11, and yes, it probably should have been because I'm not happy with this ending at all. But nrfan is back so I'll dedicate this final chapter to her (in the hopes that she enjoys it) and leave you all with this short, final chapter so I can move on to my other ideas.]

Chapter 12

_Now I'm just a basket case…_

Years would pass, decades and centuries and eons, and Niles doubted anyone in the world would achieve more happiness than he currently felt, holding hands on a park bench with CC Babcock. Balanced against years of hints, despair, hopelessness, and fights…well, it was no contest. This moment was worth it.

Of course, had he asked himself just one hour prior how history would record his life, he would have guessed that he would go down in it as the most pathetic old man. Six months ago, he had been bemoaning his unrequited feelings for a blonde heiress. Today, he'd been doing _the exact same thing_. But today had been a little different, as CC had shed light on some rather important details he'd been selectively muting: he'd never actually tried. Not in any explicit way, not in any way he knew she needed.

And so he had sat on the bench in Central Park, wondering how he could have wasted such a spectacular amount of time wanting CC and never managing to do a damn thing about it. At that point, it had seemed like he'd even lost her for good—without ever truly trying! It would have been one of the more outstanding failures in history, surely.

But then a small dog had scratched at his trouser and his owner appeared (_like Aphrodite plucked from the clouds_) with her hair in a gorgeous soft wave he'd never seen before and her shoulders bared to the sun and Niles had thought he'd died because surely, _surely_, this was some form of purgatory.

After realizing that he still lived, he discovered something even more wonderful: that he was just as much of a constant to CC as she was to him. What else could explain her lack of anger? Or why she didn't simply pick up her seven-pound dog and carry him off? No, it seemed that the pattern of their interactions held no matter what: hot anger and irritation followed by near-immediate forgiveness. They never stayed mad for too long.

Niles's misery became a memory barely identifiable in the distance as CC sat down next to him and they began talking. Her bare legs peeking out from the hem of her blue dress nearly unraveled him, but her eyes, a far more beautiful blue, kept him grounded. At some point in the conversation, he realized that he was an idiot for ever thinking that all hope was lost.

As she narrated her spare time to him (most of which he could have guessed, really), he felt a profound desire to be with her as she completed all of those things: read a book next to her, watch a movie with her, read the notes she left on scripts, watch as she interacted with her friends, walk through a museum with her. Eat breakfast with her. Cook her dinner.

Then she allowed him to hold her hand, he felt her skin against his, and he wanted to do 80 different things with her, all of which would get him arrested if he tried any right now in the middle of Central Park.

He asked her which museums she preferred. As she answered, her thumb absentmindedly traced little circles against the back of his hand and he wondered how long he'd been in love with her.

"What about you? What do you do on your days off?" CC asked him.

"I sit on park benches and wait for you to walk by," he answered. She laughed, the same laugh from when she'd been in the hospital—light and delighted. He squeezed her hand slightly.

"Apparently. Well, Chester's going to overheat in the sun pretty soon—"

"To say nothing of yourself," he pointed out quickly.

"—and I was _going_ to invite you to walk me back and then we could grab lunch but in light of that…" CC trailed off, slipping her hand from his and standing up. Chester raised his head curiously from his paws but remained still.

Niles stood up as well. He'd just decided he wanted to kiss her—with the sun in her hair and the smile on her face, she proved too irresistible—but before he could, CC took a step towards him and nestled her lips around his. It was a light but steady touch, lingering long enough to set Niles's heart rate to "cardio."

"Ah…I…" Niles trailed off, lost and delirious, after CC pulled away but remained standing close to him.

CC grinned and lightly touched his face with her fingertips. "Finally, I know how to make you speechless."

She reached over and scooped Chester into her arms, sidestepping Niles with a smug face. He snapped to attention a few moments later, hurrying after her and sliding his arm around her waist.

"I'll leave Chester upstairs and then we can go to lunch," CC told him as they entered her building. She squeezed his hand gently before hers slid from his grasp. Niles's fingertips hastily memorized the terrain of her disappearing hand and he worked to remind himself that this time, she wasn't actually disappearing.

From behind the front desk, Niles spied John raising his eyebrows and smirking slightly. Niles smiled at him and spared little thought to what the man thought of him.

CC returned to the lobby with a handbag nestled in the crook of her elbow and a happy smile on her face. Niles returned it to her, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her jaw.

He pushed open the door to the outside, allowing her to walk in front of him, and rejoined her on the sidewalk to find her shaking her head slightly. "What?" he asked.

"You're an idiot, Niles," she replied, grabbing his hand again as they walked in unison.

"Yes, probably," Niles agreed. "I did choose you, after all."

"Yeah, yeah. But first you chose someone _the exact opposite of me_ and thought it would work out well for you," CC pointed out.

"Would it help at all if I told you I missed you?" Niles asked. He'd also thought of CC too often—and in an array of increasingly risqué situations—but he knew enough to understand that CC didn't need to know the extent of it.

"Maybe," CC granted, "but you should keep saying things like that just to make sure."

"Don't worry, I figured I'd need to with your brain, addled as it's been by age and liquor," Niles replied, patting their linked hands in a placating manner.

"Where should we e—" CC began. Niles cut her off as he turned suddenly, turning her to face him with his free hand. He kissed her fully and excitedly, not caring when people jostled them on either side and huffed under their breath about people taking up the sidewalk.

"Would it have always been this easy?" Niles asked, his hand now resting against the curve of her neck while his other remained clasped with hers.

CC laughed, her nose pressed against his, and replied, "You thought this was easy?"

"Not _all_ of it, but today, yes," Niles explained, continuing their walk and draping his arm around her back. His hand rested against her hip and held her close to him. It still wasn't close enough. He wondered if it ever would be.

CC shrugged, her shoulder bumping up against his armpit. "I doubt it would have always been as easy as us asking each other a few questions and then me kissing you because you're spineless."

"Spineless!"

"Spineless," CC agreed, baiting him. The sunshine danced against her eyes but couldn't compete with the brightness it encountered there.

"Need I remind you that _I_ am the one who came to you this morning?"

"Need I remind you that _I_ came to you last night?" CC pointed out. She slid her hand under his jacket and wrapped her fingers around his waist. Niles forgot how to speak for a while. CC chuckled and said, "Looks like you'll always be this easy, though."

Niles smiled a little bashfully at her, embarrassed by how much he adored her. Still, he had to get back on even footing with this woman, so he said, "You should be nice to me or I can return to my park bench and wait for another socialite to walk by."

"Or a brunette caterer," CC grumbled, slowing as they reached a small Italian restaurant on the corner.

Niles stopped and turned to face her, resting his hands lightly on her waist. "Babcock, you didn't tell me you're changing careers!"

CC thumped him in the stomach with the back of her hand. "Can it, Beulah. Let's eat here." She led him up to the entrance, which he opened for her, and left her name with the hostess.

Niles stood near tbe window, his smile diminishing a little as she walked back to him and leaned against the windowsill. "She was never my type, CC."

She looked at him askance and scoffed.

"She wasn't."

"I can think of another tiny brunette you ogle."

Niles shook his head, then realized she couldn't see him with her eyes staring at the floor. "I only did that to throw you off. You never seemed to notice when I was ogling you but I had to be safe."

A tiny smile graced her face, but Niles guessed that she wasn't going to let him off that easily. But in a surprising turn, CC suddenly looked at him and said, quite seriously, "Speaking of tiny brunettes, you should talk to Nanny Fine again. You're like a fourteen-year-old, ditching your friends for a girl."

Niles nodded with a sigh. "I know. She was only trying to help."

"It isn't any fun being on the receiving end of a yenta, is it?"

"Oh, I don't know, I rather hope you'll enjoy being on the receiving end of me," Niles told her, his eyes twinkling.

CC's cheeks flushed attractively but her voice was quite steady as she responded, "We'll just have to see about that. But in the meantime, if _this_ is going to work, you'll have to be nicer to her."

Niles looked at her in shock. "Are you actually concerned about Miss Fine?"

"_No_, but when you ignore her, she follows me around like a sad puppy," CC replied, picking a piece of lint off the left strap of her dress.

Niles eyed her, evaluative, but didn't press it. "Fair enough. So tell me, CC, what did you mean when you said if _this_ is going to work?"

The blush on her cheeks increased and Niles's grin widened. "You know…_this_," CC replied, waving her hand between him and her.

"This…lunch?" Niles guessed.

CC glared at him witheringly and Niles only smiled brighter. CC sighed, "Will you ever stop annoying me?"

"Never, love," Niles replied, moving closer to her and kissing her.


End file.
